


The Devil's Trap

by nishiki



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adam Milligan is a Winchester, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - No Monsters, Alternate Universe - Prison, Archive Warnings will change as the story progresses!, Canonical Character Death, Caring Dean Winchester, Caring John Winchester, Childhood Trauma, Drug Addict Sam Winchester, Drug Addiction, Family Fluff, Former Police Officer Dean, Gadreel is a cool guy, Good Parent John Winchester, Guilt, Guilty Sam Winchester, Law Student Sam Winchester, M/M, Nice John Winchester, Police Officer Dean, Prison, Prisoner Castiel, Prisoner Dean, Prisoner Gadreel, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Gabriel (Supernatural), Rehabilitation, Single Parent John Winchester, Teen Adam Milligan, The Archangels are assholes, Wrongful Imprisonment, later on, michael is an asshole, prison rape in chapter 13, protective gadreel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-02-23 13:17:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 28
Words: 170,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13190916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishiki/pseuds/nishiki
Summary: Dean Winchester was always on the right side of the law. He was always a good son to his single dad John Winchester, a good brother to his younger siblings Sam and Adam, a good neighbor, a righteous man, and a good cop. From his early childhood on he had known that he wanted to be a police officer to make his hometown of Lawrence a better place and he succeeded in this wish, becoming his father's biggest pride in a life full of regrets, loss, pain, and misery after his wife's death. Dean Winchester's life could not have gone more perfect and not more perfectly wrong either.Despite all of this, Dean Winchester finds himself in prison for the murder of Ruby Cortese, a common drug dealer who introduced his brother Sam to heroin that nearly killed Sam through an overdose. In prison, Dean finds himself at a crossroad and has to choose the way he is going to take from now on. His father is dead, his brother in rehab and his youngest sibling all alone with his mother.





	1. Prolog

**Author's Note:**

> Like always the prolog is extremely short. The following chapters will be a whole lot longer.

Looking back on everything in his life, he shouldn't actually be too surprised that this is where he had ended up. It wasn't as if he had had a bad life or childhood. Quite the contrary. His father had been loving, always doing his best in raising his boys the right way and teaching them to do the right things and stay on the right side of the law, always sacrificing for them so that they could be happy. John Winchester had always thought that Dean, his oldest son, wouldn't notice what he was doing to make sure that they, his boys, were alright - but he had. He had seen the amount of overtime his father had worked at the car repair shop under a crappy boss until their uncle Bobby had helped him to get back to his feet, to be able to pay for everything his boys could possibly want in life. He had seen the times when his father would forgo a meal or two when the money had been especially short, only so that his growing boys could eat properly. 

He had seen the amount of money, mostly change, John Winchester had put aside into this shoebox that he had kept hidden under his bed just to be able to buy his sons the toys they wanted for their birthdays or Christmas. His sons should not lack anything in life. His sons should not forgo the experiences their peers lived through. Nothing was ever too expensive as long as it succeeded in putting a smile on his children's faces. That was the kind of father Dean had while growing up. His father had been a proud man and so, Dean had never said anything, just made sure that his father's efforts would not go to waste, supporting him as much as he had been able to while growing up. 

The truth was, despite the deep love he had felt growing up, not only from his father or brothers but also his uncle Bobby, Dean had always known that their family had been cursed. Their happiness as a family had never lasted them long. His mother had died at the peak of her happiness just months after his baby brother Sam’s birth, Kate had left them only a year after Adam had joined their team. And now he was here. Now he was here and he really had no one else to blame but himself for it. 

As the metal door slammed shut behind him loudly only to be locked from the outside, Dean Winchester knew that his life had just derailed completely. For the first time, the feeling of being completely and utterly lost and alone hit him with full force. 

 

**-End of Prolog -**


	2. Chapter 2

**Lawrence, Kansas**

The light in the examination room was blinding and white as Dean stood there naked and waited for the physician to come and have a look at him. He knew the rules. He knew the procedure. He was one of them. That didn't make it any better, though. He was one of them and that would only mean that he would have a target on his back from now on. He wasn't naive about that. Naivete would break his neck, would he make the mistake and allow this feeling into his mind and behavior from now on. The American prison system was legendary in the whole world and that was most certainly not a good thing. In American prisons, the general rule was survival of the fittest at it's finest and Dean would be one of the poor souls that would have to prove his worth to the world from now on behind bars.

Weird how things like that happened. He had always done everything right. He had never broken the law before. He had been the good son, the good brother, the good boy in the neighborhood who would help old ladies across the street if they needed his help. He had played by the rules and yet it was him who was in this brightly lit room, ready to be further humiliated.

Yet, as he looked down at his naked feet on the white tiled floor, he couldn't help but wonder how it could have ever gotten this far in the first place. He knew where he had gone wrong. That was just another thing he couldn't be naive about from now on. He knew what he had done and the day that his life had completely derailed would from now on be always edged into his mind, never to leave him again. He still saw that girl lying on the ground to his feet in a puddle of her own blood that kept rushing out of the wound in her throat, drip-drip-dripping onto the floorboards beneath her pale and lifeless body. A deep red puddle. Red like her name. Ruby-red.

As the door slammed shut, he was ripped from his thoughts and raised his green eyes at the physician that walked into the room without sparing him so much as a glance. »Winchester.« The man didn't address him and so Dean didn't reply. He was just reading out loud from the file in his hands as he walked to his desk at the long side of the room. He was maybe in his mid-fifties, his hair already grey and thin on his round head. He was a little on the heavy side but not nearly enough to worry about it and his lab coat hung from his shoulders lifelessly after years, maybe decades of working in a place like this. There was no prestige in working in a place like this. »Dean Michael.« The physician continued with a hum. »Age: twenty-seven. Male. Working for the Lawrence City Police Department. Well … formerly.«

Hearing it like this actually hurt. There was no shame in denying that. He had always been proud of his job. He had always been one of the good cops. And now he was here. He was here and his family was on his own. How would they fare without him? He couldn't help it. His thoughts were always returning to this very question. How would his family fare without him? This would probably be the worst thing about being locked up in prison for the next fifteen years, the constant nagging worries about his family, not knowing how they were doing without him, not knowing if everything was alright with them or if they needed help.

At least Bobby was still there to help them. At least Bobby would take care of them.

»Well then, Mr. Winchester, for your sake I can only hope that there are not too many guys in Leavenworth that you helped to bring to justice or otherwise the next fifteen years of your life will be not too pleasant.« It wasn't just the humiliation of the examination that the doctor performed or the little taunts that he had to brush off coming from the physician or the cavity search that bothered him. He could deal with all of that. Yes, Dean Winchester was a proud man and yes, that was no secret. Still, all these things he could easily shrug off. But he couldn't deal too well with the thoughts of his family. Even if they would be okay without him financially and emotionally - What about school? Adam was sixteen and teenagers were monsters. How would he handle the taunting of the other kids in school? Because, yes, they _would_ taunt him with his big brother who was a murderer, right? Dean being locked up was ammunition for these assholes and Adam … He was a sweet boy, as his mother liked to put it. He was an emotional boy, he was sensitive. He needed his brothers and yet both of them were unavailable.

What if one day he would get out of this hell and find that Adam too had lost his path?

»Cops that are turning up in prison usually don't live very long, Winchester.« The doc finally turned to him again as Dean put on his new fashionable outfit a little while later. »Not that I would care. In my eyes, people like you are the lowest of the low, worse even than the drug dealers and low-life criminals in this cesspool of depravity.«

Dean did his best not to roll his eyes as he slipped into his new sneakers. »I'm not sure, Doc.« He sighed as he turned in front of the small mirror on the wall. »Orange is not my color, what do you think?«

»I think you should better watch out that none of the other prisoners will find a way to plug your smart mouth.«

※※※※※※※

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

He could still hear the murmur running through the crowd of the courtroom. He still felt the scrutinizing eyes of the judge, the jury, the district attorney and the hand full of journalists that had seats in the courtroom on him, burning into his skin and leaving marks that would never vanish, scars that he would never be able to hide. He was no longer pure and everyone could see that. All of this had left a stain on him that he would never be able to wash off. He could still hear the sobs of his family. He could still hear the shrill disheartened cry of utter desperation ripping from Kate’s throat as the verdict had been spoken and remembered Adam fighting against Bobby’s ironclad grip to keep the teenager in check while Sam had closed his arms around the sobbing mother of their younger brother in a sorry attempt of comforting her.

He remembered standing up and his hands being cuffed by the guard. He remembered turning around and looking at his family one last time, seeing their faces and knowing that he wouldn't be able to see any of them for a long time now. He remembered how Sam had avoided even looking at him, remembered the tears streaming down Kate’s face, remembered the grim expression on Bobby’s face as he held down Adam with one hand on the boy’s shoulder and he remembered how Adam had looked up at him out of teary blue eyes, his lips quivering - unable to talk to his big brother. It was for the better and they had both known that. Everything Adam could have said would have crushed them both even more in the end.

»Move!« The sharp voice that assaulted his ears followed by a light shove against his back made him realize that he had gotten lost in his mind once again and so he raised his eyes from his bound hands to the path ahead. He was slowly moving out of the bus with the other prisoners which was not at all easy with his ankles and wrists bound together with a chain. Still, Dean managed without making an ass out of himself, which was fortunate since they were led past the yard where the other inmates were able to see them right away. It was a procession of the damned, of unfortunate souls and Dean was only one of them as he followed the other fugitives through the gate and into the small walkway that was fenced off to his right-hand side where the yard was and bordered up through the stone building that was the prison to his left-hand side.

The sky was a dark orange and the air so cold it was cutting through his skin. Evening was approaching in big steps already. Winter had arrived in Kansas and soon the first bit of snow would fall. He would spend his first Christmas in prison. An awful thought.

Already there were men clawing at the chain link fence to get a better look at the new arriving prisoners, their game of basketball all but forgotten, apparently. Dean just stared blankly ahead, not willing to draw too much unwanted attention to himself and yet he threw a glance over the yard just to get a better glimpse of what his life would look like in this den. Only one of the guys playing basketball had remained on the field, as it appeared. He was tall with short cropped dark blonde hair. He seemed tall, maybe even a little taller than Dean himself but from that distance, it was impossible to determine more clearly. The glance Dean shot the man who waited for his comrades to return to their game was quick and yet he found the man staring back at him with an unreadable face.

Under different circumstances, he wouldn't feel that uneasy. He had always known his way around, had always known how to deal with certain situations and problems and how to make the best out of it. His father had taught him that because he too had needed to deal with quite a lot of shit in his lifetime. His father, John Winchester, was probably the biggest inspiration in Dean Winchester's life and yet … now that he was slowly marching down this path he felt like the biggest disappointment his father could have ever received. If his father would still be alive, now would be the time he would receive his final blow with his oldest son, the boy he could have relied on for everything and who had always done everything in his power to help his dad, being locked away in prison for murder.

»Look at that sweet piece of ass right there!« The taunting was nothing unexpected and Dean was surely not dumb enough to react to it in any way, unlike some of the other new inmates that moved along with him slowly. A nervous looking young blonde guy that almost painfully reminded Dean of his little brother Adam flinched harshly as one of the guys at the fence smashed his hand against the fence. »Hey, Blondy! Why don't you visit me later? You could be my wife!« The same man who had smashed his hand against the fence addressed the boy before Dean and Dean could witness how nervous the poor thing looked at the heavy set inmate.

»Holy crap I can't wait to get my hands on one of these!« Another guy cheered and the tremble that ran through the boy before Dean neither escaped them nor Dean.

»Don't listen.« Dean whispered just loud enough so that the boy would hear him over the sharp whistling and taunts thrown at them. He didn't even know why he cared so much. Well, no, he knew. Of course, he knew. The boy was barely older than Adam. Eighteen at best. »Don't look at them. Don't listen to them.«

Dean knew how things were in prison. He knew that, if he wouldn't be careful, he would be someone’s bitch in no time, as was this shivering kid before him. Dean was not a man who indulged in illusions of any nature for sure. He knew he was an attractive guy and he had had his fair share of relationships with women. He knew that he had a pretty face and he knew that men were looking at him from time to time too. It had never bothered him, though. His father had always been a little old-fashioned in this regard and Dean, honestly, didn't know how the old man would have reacted would one of his sons had come out as gay to him but … Well, after everything that had happened with Sam, a gay son would have probably been preferable even to his stubborn father. He would have yelled and be angry and maybe even insulted the son in question but, after a while, he would not have been able to keep his anger burning. His father, though gruff and a little aggressive from time to time, had been one big teddy bear and everyone who really knew him had known that. Adam, that little imp, had always been able to use this to his advantage too.

This was now over.

»Hey! You, hussy!« A quick sideways glance to the fence told Dean that he was the whore in question and yet he did his best to not react to it. »Yeah, you!« The man was tall, but not as tall as Dean, with broad shoulders, broader than his, piercing blue eyes and light blonde hair that was for Dean’s taste a little too neatly combed to one side. Looking at him even from the side was enough for Dean to get a taste of in which camp this asshole belonged. Everything about him screamed Aryan Brotherhood almost a bit too clearly. At least he could not immediately see flashy tattoos, except for an ugly ass skull and flames tattoo on his left forearm. »Oh don't worry, Sweetheart! Your pretty ass will get to feel my big fat cock soon enough, no need to be all coy about it now. We can all see that you want it, Honey!«

Man … He was honestly quite glad that his father wasn't here to witness this anymore. And yet, his thoughts were with his family. What if they wouldn't make it without him? Then again, Sam was an adult, even though he didn't behave like one most of the time and Adam was sixteen and with his mother now. They would be alright, wouldn't they? They had to be. Otherwise, Dean didn't know if _he_ would be able to do this right here. He had to stay calm and act as if he wouldn't even hear those taunts, otherwise, it would just continue on like this. He knew that the other inmates had it in for the young men that were tossed in the cage with them. They looked at them as fresh meat, as a substitute for women - especially the short blonde guy in front of Dean would have a hard time in this pit.

At least he still had his training. At least he was still able to defend himself, but this boy in front of him … Well, he couldn't save everyone.

He was one of the last to pass through the heavy doors and as the doors behind the procession fell shut, it was oddly final. From now on, they were prisoners. From now on, every bit of freedom they still possessed would be taken from them. Dean felt naked without the necklace he had worn for the biggest chunk of his life. Luckily, he had given the necklace with his mother's wedding band to Sam before the trial so there was nothing he had to give away now.  

There was a small hiccup during the arrival of his group after they entered the prison and so they had to wait for a while until there was movement again. Some of the others were called to follow, but Dean remained in the large room surrounded by prison guards with guns that they would most certainly use too. The group that Dean had arrived with had already thinned out quite a lot as he was finally, after almost half an hour, led outside this room and further down the hall and into the bowels of the prison. Not everyone Dean had sat on the bus with would go to the same place he would end up at. He was going to meet the truly depraved, after all. He was sent to where the murderers, rapists, child molesters, and drug dealers were down in cellblock D. _D for deranged_. The thought was truly awful, of course, and yet, he had known from the beginning how this would play out in the end, hadn't he?

Now their group of thirty guys had shrunken to a group of seven to ten at most. None of them seemed to know who Dean was, which was a plus, obviously, but Dean knew at least some of their names. Luckily for him, not everyone that came here was from Kansas, let alone Lawrence. Because that was the true danger of his situation. He had been sent to Leavenworth and his hometown of Lawrence, where he had worked as an officer was only thirty-four miles away. Being outed as a cop, or as an ex-cop, in prison was probably one of the worst fates that could befall a man, only topped by being outed as a child molester and, honestly, Dean had only very little pity for those folks anyway.

They were led down the narrow hallway towards their individual cells. Metal doors to each side of them with only a small barred window in the middle of the door so that the prison guards could look inside. It was a lot more humane than he would have expected in such an old prison as Leavenworth. However, he had expected the cell doors to be open at this time of day. Surely, dinner would be served soon, after all. To his surprise, the other inmates were all in their cells already. Weird.

One after the other, the new inmates in front of him were sent into their cells. Sometimes two at a time at once, sometimes just one, depending if a cell was completely empty or if just one bunk was free. All of them were carrying just a thin scratchy woolen blanket and a roll of toilet paper in their arms as they were led down the hallway. Dean was, as usual, one of the last in the line and as it was his turn one of the guards opened a door to his left-hand side and Dean walked right in, biting back one of the snarky little comments his father had always warned him about not to use too much in the face of law enforcement. What a joke that was, really. The door was closed behind him before he could even turn around again to face it and the sound of the door falling shut and being locked with a squeak sounded as if the gates of hell were slammed shut behind him instead.

The cell wasn’t empty either, despite the bunk beds on the right hand side of the cell, the sink right across from the beds and a dirty looking curtain behind which he suspected the toilet, as Dean realized now that he took a deep breath and was faced with the bluest eyes he had ever seen, peeking down at him from the top bunk. Messy almost black hair, a faint hue of stubbles around a firm jaw and squinty blue eyes that made Dean believe the owner of those eyes was used to wearing glasses and didn't have them now.

»Well and here I am thinking I could call shots on the top bunk.« Dean huffed with a smirk as he threw his belongings on the bottom bunk before he outstretched his hand to the man on the top bunk right away. »Name’s Dean.« Better try to get on his new roommate's good side quick, he assumed. He didn't need any more trouble than necessary. Judging by his face alone, the other man couldn't be much older than Dean himself. Thirty at most. He was not too shabby looking either, probably had a hard time in this hell hole too. Maybe Dean had already found an ally in this horrible situation. It was worth a try.

First, the other man just stared at him, then at Dean’s outstretched hand until it became a little awkward and so Dean pulled back and drove the same hand through his messy blonde hair instead. Apparently, the other guy was not much interested in small talk or just being polite. He was more of a starer and that was unnerving to Dean, who was usually not the biggest fan of prolonged eye contact anyway.

»Your friendliness will break your neck or cost you your ass if you are not careful with it.« Finally, the other man spoke and his voice was gravely and dark as he did. The sound alone send shivers down his spine and Dean couldn't even tell why that was. The feeling was not too unfamiliar but entirely uncalled for in this moment. »You will find out soon enough, that most of the men in this facility are monsters that do not shy away from murdering their fellow inmates. Approximately four people die in this cell block every month, that makes one per week and fifty-three per year - and that is only when it's peaceful inside the prison and only taking into account cellblock D, where we are right now, unfortunately. Projected onto the entire prison the number is probably in the hundred, which still puts us into the lower categories of the statistic, I assume - I would have to consult the latest statistics to exactly know it, of course. America has the most inmates with approximately around two million people incarcerated - most of them black or Hispanic. You would fare well if you would stick to the rules of this prison and not get involved in gang fights.«

Still not a name. Huh.

It wouldn't be like Dean to act in any way scared of the other man. Instead, he leaned with his back against the wall opposite the bunk bed and crossed his arms as he looked up at his new roommate. He couldn't see tattoos that eluded to a gang or anything else for now, but he couldn't see much of the man anyway. He was resting on his side, propped up on his right arm a little more than would be comfortable, his covers already pulled over most of his body as if he was cold. Well, it wasn't exactly warm in here. »How sweet of you that you warn me like that, Sweetheart. I’m flattered.« He scoffed. »But I do believe that I’m going to manage just fine on my own, Dearie. I’m a big boy.«

»I don't understand why you assume that I would be flirting with you.« The man replied with a frown on his face and still the same monotone voice as before, before he leaned back on his bed again and for once took his eyes from Dean. »I am merely informing you of your new situation because I think that you, like most new inmates, might not be aware of the reality your situation entails. Most people have seen one or two movies about life in prison and think that this is how it's going to play out, but you should know that this is not the case at all. It's my general and honest advice that you should decide what you are going to do with your life in here very soon. You should decide whether you should join one of the gangs or not.«

»Are you in one?« He tried his best not to sound like a cop and yet the question did not lack in a certain tone he had always used during investigations.

»No. But it is recommended. Gangs can aid you in your survival in this place. It's either that or you should find yourself a man. You are a pretty guy. Loads of guys will be after your ass soon.« He made it sound like the most normal and natural thing in the world and that actually pushed Dean a little off balance.

Should he be affronted that this stranger already assumed that Dean was going to be a sissy? He was aware of the reality behind prison bars and how it worked in here. He was aware of the rapes that took place in prisons all over the country on an almost daily basis. He didn't need this guy to spell it out for him. »I can defend myself well enough on my own, I guess.«

»Not against a group of brawny men that do nothing except lifting weights all day.« The man on the top bunk huffed. »Just a well-meant piece of advice.«

Just as he wanted to shoot back some witty reply, the lights were shut off without warning. »Bedtime already?« He sighed but moved towards the bottom bunk anyway.

»There was a murder today, not long before you got here. A welcome gift for the newcomers, perhaps. That's why. We’re currently under lockdown - so to say - while the guards investigate the murder. It's highly uncommon that new prisoners arrive during a lockdown but oh well, nobody could know that it would happen today … And I guess sending you guys back just because of some murder wouldn't have been very efficient either.« At least someone in this place was concerned about efficiency. So, Dean assumed, the murder had taken place sometime after he left the prison bus and since everyone that had been led into cell block D with him had remained in this waiting room, he assumed that the murder had happened in this cell block. So, that was why they had to wait that long before they had been led to their cells. Then again … the personnel had been very quick to react to this murder. This could only mean two things, the prison guards were either extremely good at their job or they were so used to occurrences like this that they had developed a certain routine.

Either way, a part of him was glad that he wouldn't need to walk through that building again today. He could go without seeing those deranged assholes from the yard again already.

»Well, aren't I a lucky girl.« Dean chuckled as he finally crawled into his bunk. The mattress was squeaking loudly under every shift of weight and it was uncomfortably chilly. He had no problems sharing a room with another guy, but in the past, the other guy had been his younger brother Sam and not some stranger of whom he didn't even know the name yet. »So, who is _your_ man then?«

»I don't understand this question.«

»You see, judging by the fact that a) you too are a handsome guy and b) that you are so insistent of me finding my luck in marriage in here, it has to either mean that you a) have a hubby yourself or b) want me to be your girl. So which is it?« There was a loud squeak above him as the unknown man presumably turned on his bed as if this way he would escape an answer. Dean knew this from Sam. He would say something to shut him up next and signalize with the movement in his bed that he was done talking.

»It's neither.« The man said. »I don't need protection.« And with that, the conversation was over and Dean was wise enough not to drill any further. After all, he didn't know who the man was or why he was in here. He was barely stupid enough to provoke a possibly very dangerous criminal, that much was certain - at least not on his very first night in prison.

As he now lay awake with only his own thoughts as company, Dean Winchester came to a halt and wondered what the hell he was going to do now. He was stuck in prison for murdering this bitch, for murdering a literal criminal. Yet, murder was murder and he was not better than her just because she had been a drug dealer and he a cop. A crime was a crime was a crime. Would anyone of the other inmates learn that he was a cop, he would be dead within mere minutes of it becoming public knowledge. He was already a dead man walking and yes, he knew that his roomie was right too. He knew what happened to guys like him in prison usually.

He would make it. He just had to make it despite it all for his family’s sake. There simply was no other way than making it because everything else meant he was going to end up dead and buried behind the prison in an anonymous grave with just a number etched in his headstone. He couldn't do this to Sammy or Adam or Kate or Bobby. For them, he had to be strong and if that meant sucking a few dicks, then this was what he had to do. Fifteen years, though. He would spend fifteen years in this hell hole and there was no way around that, no way out. Still, fifteen years was a relatively mild sentence. Perhaps because he had pleaded guilty right away and thus spared Ruby’s family the torture of going through it all.

They were good people. Good Christian folks with a great love for their wayward daughter. It wasn't their fault that Ruby had strayed from the pack and ended up on the wrong side of the law. They didn't deserve being put through a lengthy trial in which photos of their dead daughter would be shown to the courtroom and her murder would be discussed in great detail. And yet, the murmur of the courtroom was still in his mind and he wondered if it would ever leave him, as the judge had made her verdict. He wondered if the sight of Ruby lying in a pool of her own blood would ever leave him either, her throat slit from ear to ear. The difference between murder and manslaughter was that the kill had to be premeditated to be classified as murder. The murder of Ruby Cortese had been premeditated. There was no question about it. Her killer had lured her to the location and had then killed her from behind. That was it. Right out of the hornbook, so to say.

Did he regret it?

That was probably the most important question and to this day, Dean still had no answer to it. He wasn't sorry that Ruby Cortese was dead. Only the way she died … It hadn't needed to be like this. She had been a drug dealer, she had been a drug user herself. Her life would have been a short one anyway. There had been no need for murdering her and yet … Yet she had shot up his little brother with heroin. She had destroyed Sam’s life or at the very least, she had been about to destroy it forever and without a chance of ever coming back from it.

Dean would never forget the moment he had found his baby brother lying in his own vomit in his tiny college dorm. Sam had been insistent of moving out as soon as he had been accepted into the college in town to ease the strain on his father. He had worked part-time to pay his rent and food and he had had a promising life ahead of him. Yet, Dean had found him lying in his own vomit with a belt tied around his left arm and a syringe lying next to him on the dirty bathroom tiles and from that moment onwards his life had spiraled out of control completely.

Sammy had always been the smart one, the one who would become a lawyer and have a great career and yet he had almost died from an overdose because that bitch had hooked him up with drugs. Sam had always had a questionable taste in women and the moment he had dumped his longtime girlfriend Jessica, should have been the moment big brother Dean should have swooped in and kicked his ass. Still, he was aware that he couldn't have prevented this from happening. Sam had always yearned to be different, to be his own man, to not be depended on his father or his big brother. He had butted heads with their father constantly, always felt like the odd one out, always felt like he didn't really belong to this family. Maybe all of this had been bound to happen. Maybe there was a curse lying on their family.

His mother had passed away only a few months after Sam’s birth. She had been in her car on her way home from the grocery store as a drunk driver had cut her off. Her car had hit a tree on the side of the road and gone up in flames and the other driver had driven off, only to be caught almost a month later as he had been stopped by traffic police for drunk driving yet again. His father had been a changed man after that. He had lost himself to alcohol for quite some time to cope with his pain and yet he had never been abusive - just negligent. It had been Dean who had raised his infant brother for quite some time until his father had finally got a grip again thanks to their uncle Bobby who had given him work after his boss had no longer tolerated John’s behavior. Of course, he would be protective of his younger brother even into adulthood after everything that had happened. Years later his father had met Kate Milligan, a wonderful young nurse and finally, life had looked like it was all getting better again. She had moved in with them, had cared for her three boys lovingly and the day she had announced that she was pregnant, had been one of the best in Dean’s life. He had been so sure that they would marry.

His father and Kate had separated as Adam turned one year old and Adam had stayed with them from then on instead of going with his mother. Yet, Kate had remained a presence in her boys' lives and for that Dean couldn't be more grateful. She would take care of Adam for him from now on, he was sure and yet, as he was lying here now, he couldn't be more afraid.

He wasn't afraid for his own safety or life. Just afraid that nothing would be the way it used to be when he would get out. From in here, he had no influence over his brothers, he couldn't find Sammy lying in a pool of his own vomit again just in time to save his life. He had no control anymore and everything that would happen from now on would happen without him being able to change anything about it.

As sleep finally hit him with an iron frying pan, Dean’s slumber was nerved with nightmares and the most horrifying images his unconsciousness was so happy to provide him with.

 

**-End of Chapter 2-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a comment, I always love to read what you guys have to say <3


	3. Chapter 3

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

The doors were unlocked with a horrible sound that would probably never cease to make Dean cringe whenever he would get to hear that sound in the next fifteen years of his captivity. As Dean was still trying to collect himself and entangle his limbs from his blanket, he noticed that his unnamed roomie was already climbing down from the top bunk. If it was possible, his dark hair was even more disheveled than last night and the stubbles around his jaw even more prominent than the day before. He looked as if he had not even slept at all - not that Dean could blame him. His own night had been everything but restful.

»Good Morning, Sweetheart.« Dean groaned quietly and wasn't quite so sure if he would rather just lay here and try to avoid facing the day altogether. It seemed easier to just lie here and try to ignore the fact where he was. There was nothing that would force him to leave his cell anyway, right?

»It's six-thirty.« The other guy stated as he made his way to the small sink right across from their bed. At least their toilet was separated from the rest of the room with some moldy curtain and stood not right next to their bed like in the movies Dean had seen in the past. A bit of privacy at least. Dean just watched the other man how he turned on the faucet with the probably very cold water and splashed a bit of it on his face. Apparently, that was all the guy needed to wash up in the morning while Dean would prefer a nice hot shower. Needless to say, it had not always been that easy with four grown men and just one bathroom in the house, especially after Adam had hit puberty and needed hours to get ready in the morning from that moment on. »Wake-up call. Breakfast is at seven. You better get your ass moving if you want a spot at one of the good tables. The other inmates will probably try to fuck with you today. They always eye up the new guys, try to find out which one is the easiest target. Remember my words from yesterday, try not to act like a target.« Apparently, that was the advice he was going to get this morning and before he would have even been able to ask further questions (like what he meant with good tables), this weird small guy had already left their cell. Although, now that he had actually seen the man standing at his full height, Dean was aware that his roommate was not at all a small guy.

»Wow.« There was no other thing to say than wow.

Walking into the dining hall was like walking into the predator compound in the zoo, but Dean was quick to spring back into action as he walked up to the food counter to retrieve his breakfast from a lovely young man with a hairnet. Dean was pretty sure he would have spit into Dean's breakfast, had Dean not stared at him in a silent warning not to. He had followed the stream of other inmates to the dining hall, otherwise, he might not have been able to find it on his own. The insides of this prison were like a maze and Dean was not too eager to get lost in it. Finding a spot to sit and eat was a lot harder than expected, though. It was pretty clear to him that there was a certain seating arrangement in this place and Dean was not yet willing to mess with it.

The dining hall itself was not in any way exciting - but what did he expect to see anyway? It was a rectangular room, complete with dull white walls and the same ugly grey-ish linoleum floor that seemed to be en vogue when it came to the interior design of any facility of this sorts. Rows of metal tables and benches were set up alongside the walls and the center of the room, leaving between them just enough space so that one was able to move through them without disturbing anyone - which would probably lead to a fight anyway. The food counter was located right next to the double winged entry door with a pass-through located right behind it that led into the huge industrial kitchen. At least the meals seemed to be freshly cooked, although by inmates. Well, this was not the Ritz, after all. Dean couldn't help but feel reluctant to dive into the sea of orange jumpers and seeing that there were prison guards scattered all over the place didn't exactly make it better because the fear of getting recognized was still clawing at Dean’s mind and soul.

»On the right, you’ll find the Whites, in the back the Blacks, on the left the Latinos. The undefinable rest sits in the middle.« A voice to his left demanded his attention and as Dean looked up at the man who had talked to him, he found a pair of friendly blue eyes staring back at him. »Benny Lafitte. At your service.« The resulting handshake was a little awkward as they were both holding onto their trays with one hand as if their lives would depend on it and judging by the unfriendly faces all around, that too didn't seem to be too removed from the possibilities.

»Dean Winchester.« He replied with a smirk. Benny had undoubtedly something shifty in his eyes. Well, what did he expect? He was surrounded by prisoners, after all, and all of them were shifty, even - no, especially - the guy in his cell, whom he had already spotted at one of the tables to the right sitting by himself.

»Well then, Dean Winchester, allow me to be your tour guide for the day.« Benny grinned and gave Dean full view of his ridiculously white teeth. His eye teeth were pointier than normal - that was just one thing that immediately caught Dean’s eye. Then Benny pointed with a wide gesture to one of the tables as he did his best impression of a fancy french waiter, only missing a proper mustache and the typical arrogant attitude. Dean was quick to follow Benny’s lead and sat down on one of the free spots on the bench of a table at the right-hand side of the dining hall. Benny joined him across the table with a small grunt before he started digging in on his breakfast. Unlike Benny, Dean did not feel the slightest bit hungry. He wondered if he would ever feel something but nausea ever again. Still, he mirrored Benny and started eating.

»Wow, that's awful.« Dean groaned and had troubles even getting the first bite down while Benny was still happily munching on his food as if it was the best he had ever tasted. He assumed that this was what prison did to a man.

»It gets better after the second or third bite.« Benny promised with a grin pulling on his lips, while he kept chewing on his toast. »But I agree, we could use a proper cook. Would be nice to get something to eat that actually does not taste like wet paper.«

Dean scoffed and reluctantly tried his next bite. It still tasted awful. »Maybe I should apply for kitchen duty then.«

»You used to be a cook?« The glance Benny shot him was friendly and curious all the same. This didn't seem to be the place to make friends and he didn't think that this was Benny’s desire too, but it felt nice to just have a friendly little chat with another dude. His cellmate didn't seem to be much of a talker, after all, and Dean had always been kind of a social butterfly. Maybe that came with the territory.

»Cook’s assistant.« Dean was quick to lie and couldn't help but think about all the times he had helped his father prepare dinner for the family. His father had been a lousy cook and glad as Dean got to the age when he could let his oldest son cook for the family without feeling like the worst father in history - most of the time. Yes, he had always known that his father had felt bad for putting so much on Dean’s shoulders while growing up, but his oldest son had never complained and looking back on it now, he still found nothing to complain. Had he sometimes wished to be just like any other teenage boy and go out with friends, maybe even beyond his curfew and not be worried for his little brothers all the time? Yes, of course. Then again, Dean had always loved helping his father. One of his earliest memories was when he had stood on a chair in front of the stove in their kitchen and helped his father prepare dinner for their family of three before his pregnant mother would come home. Needless to say, it had been a disaster and the kitchen a battlefield afterward, but his mother had only laughed as she had found both her boys splattered with tomato sauce, grabbed the phone and ordered pizza. »But I used to cook for my family growing up. My dad was a horrible cook, so someone had to feed the guys.«

»No mother?« Their conversation was actually distracting him from the staleness of the food.

»No, she died when I was a kid.« Not the time to blabber out his tragic backstory already, but it surely wouldn't hurt to sprinkle a few details every here and there to gain Benny’s trust and maybe learn a bit more about him in the process. People tended to be more open about themselves and their own history after getting a few bits and pieces from their opponent first. _Quid Pro Quo, Clarice_.

»Sorry to hear that, man.« Benny frowned. »Must have been hard. My mom ran away with some bloke when I was ten, but I guess that's different.«

»Anyway. Tell me everything you know about this place.« Dean smirked as he brushed off the topic of dead or wayward mothers, while he recorded this new information about Benny Lafitte as a win at the very same time. His strategy had worked on Benny as it seemed, although it might as well be just some blatant lie, of course. Anyway, Benny did not really seem like a generally dishonest man - which was probably not the wisest assumption considering where they were. Of course, Benny was a dishonest man, otherwise he wouldn't have ended up in here, right? Then again, Dean would be very naive and blind to assume that the American judicature was without fail.

He knew the statistics - thanks to Sammy. They shared the same love for justice, that much was certain but while Dean was more of the warrior type who didn't shy away from working in the field and getting his hands dirty, Sam was more the book-guy. Thanks to Sammy, he knew just how many people were wrongfully convicted each year. 1,761 people had been exonerated based on new evidence of innocence since 1989. That number might seem low at first, considering that there were around 7 million people behind bars - a record high even for the old U.S. and A. - but behind this number were 1,761 lives destroyed and every single one was one too many, at least in Dean’s eyes. Maybe he was just too soft.

At least that was what his colleagues would say. Many of the old cops did not care that much if the people they arrested were innocent or not. They just did their job and didn't ask uncomfortable questions. Dean was different. He had always dreamed of more. The FBI perhaps even. Well, that was not going to happen now. Maybe Adam would do what he wouldn't be able to. Already, Adam had spoken about his wish to follow in his big brother’s footsteps. He couldn't deny that he had been proud to hear that and on the same instant, Dean didn't want Adam to become part of the law enforcement. The life as a cop was a dangerous one, after all, and he didn't want to have his baby brother shot on duty by some criminal. Maybe that was selfish but if it was, he really had no problem with admitting it.  

»Everything I know.« Benny produced a small whistle. »Usually, that would cost you something, you know? But since you’re new, I give you a bit of information for free, I think.«

»Oh come on, as if that would be the only reason.« Dean teased wiggling his brows.

»You seem to be a cool guy. Can't hurt to have you on my side. You look like you can hold your own and that's valuable in a place like this.« Benny smirked. »So everything I know then. The prison has a yard in the center, surrounded by buildings, obviously. The prison has four towers; the main tower, one in the west, east, and south respectively. The cell blocks are located in the west and east towers. The gym and the factory are located in the north wing of the prison. The guards are stationed in the main tower - like the control center. The dining hall, where we are, is in the back of the prison. In this area you’ll find the hospital ward and library too. At the gates between those areas are security checks, usually with metal detectors - as you might have noticed on the way down here.«

All valuable information, in Dean’s eyes. At least now he had a general layout of the prison he was in. Of course, their access to certain areas was bound to be restricted. He was in cellblock D, where most of the murderers, rapists, and drug dealers were housed. Lovely. Then again, he had known what he was in for when all of this began and he knew the danger he was in while residing here.

»So, Benny, tell me, why are you here?« Dean asked taking another bite. Benny didn't seem to be affronted but Dean knew that his question might as well have backfired on him.

»I was a drug dealer.« Dean felt how his stomach twisted and though he tried to fight it, he couldn't help the image of Ruby’s dead body lying on the ground to his feet flashing through his mind or how he had found Sammy on that bathroom floor, barely breathing. »So … yeah … I was caught, as was expected, I guess, and now I’m here.« He didn't sound too bummed out about all of this, as if being locked up was just one more detour from his planned route but nothing more serious than that. »Now I’m smuggling all kinds of stuff in here. Illegal stuff, mostly, like porn magazines, drugs, knives - that kind of things. So, if you ever find yourself in need of something of that category, just tell me. I can get you everything you could possibly want - except women.«

Of course, Dean thought, Benny had been too friendly from the start. Of course, Benny was trying to get new customers, after all, that was exactly what new inmates were to people like him. His first instinct as a cop was to give a snarky response or maybe even rat him out to the guards, but he knew better than to do that and alienate a possible ally right from the start. And, of course, he was aware that there would always be people like Benny. Instead, Dean swallowed thickly before leaning in closer to Benny.

»So, my roomie told me that there are certain gangs that rule this prison and that it would be wise to join one.«

»True.« Benny shrugged. »Being in a gang is probably one of the easiest way to not get fucked over literally and figuratively speaking - but it's also the quickest way to get yourself killed. And really, you wouldn't have much choice anyway. The gang system in prison is pretty much race-based. For you, as a scrawny white dude, only the skinheads would come into question.« Benny nodded towards a table occupied by a group of white guys, all with shaved heads and quite telling tattoos.

»You aren't in one of the gangs?« Dean was quick to deduct and Benny laughed quietly.

»Oh, hell no. They are all a bunch of crazy assholes! I wouldn't need to anyway. No one fucks with the smuggler. Could be a job for you too if you have someone on the outside who can smuggle shit in.« Dean made a dismissive gesture before he finished his plate. It was then that his roommate walked past their table. Of course, he didn't say anything or even looked at Dean. He was walking by himself as if he was above all of this, as if he wouldn't need to worry about anything in this hellhole. He was untouchable for the people around.

»Hey, Benny.« Dean was quick to address his new found pal immediately and gestured towards his roommate before he could leave the dining hall. »Who’s this guy?« Maybe he should have just asked his roommate himself, but Dean doubted that he would have gotten an answer. This time, however, after Benny followed his pointing finger, his face fell and the carefree grin he had been sporting until now, vanished quickly.

»Take some advice from someone who’s been this pit for a little while longer, Deanie, my friend.« Benny started. »There are certain people in this place that you don't fuck with in any way and that scrawny little dude is one of them.«

»Why?«

»Thats Castiel Novak.« Benny looked at him as if Dean was supposed to know who he was right away and as it was apparent even to Benny that he was none the wiser now, he continued with severely lowered voice. »Better known as Castiel Pellegrino. You ever heard of the Pellegrino family?« Dean nodded sharply, his breath hitching in his throat and his skin started to become notably warmer all of the sudden. »He’s one of them. And not just one little cogwheel in the great machine either. He belongs to the inner circle, to the core family. Whatever you do, you don’t want to mess with him.«

»Well, shit.« Dean sighed. »That’s my roomie.«

Again a sharp whistle left Benny’s throat and the look he shot Dean was beyond pitiful. »Then you better watch out for yourself. His last cellmate died under _suspicious circumstances_.« Benny left his side only when he needed to start his shift in the factory with the advice for Dean to enquire for a job in the kitchen.

Dean wouldn't lie and act as if he wouldn't feel uncomfortable walking around the prison on his own after Benny left and yet he was eager to first have a look around for himself before he would possibly take on any kind of job in this place. Maybe it wasn't too wise for him to roam the prison on his own as one of the new guys and yet, Dean had never been a coward and he wouldn't start being one now either. As he reached the yard he saw that guy again who had stared at him through the chain link fence as Dean had been led into the prison.

Even from a distance, Dean could tell that the guy was taller than him, even though not as tall as Sam. He couldn't be taller than just a few inches than Dean. He was playing basketball with a group of other guys although Dean couldn't quite shake off the feeling that he didn't particularly like those other guys. He couldn't even say what it was about that stranger that made him come to this conclusion and yet, he didn't seem to be a friendly natured man. Well, this was a prison, after all. Maybe he should join in on the fun, though. He was athletic and maybe this way he could make some friends in this pit, despite never being a big fan of basketball. That was more Adam’s forté.

»If I was you, I wouldn't even go near that guy.« A voice addressed him a little too close for comfort after Dean made the mistake to linger around by the benches that were set up along the north side of the yard a little too long. Turning his head to his right-hand side he found another young man, with white-blonde hair that he was wearing neatly brushed to one side, piercing blue eyes staring directly into the green ones of Dean. His face Dean remembered too from yesterday. One of the guys clawing at the fence and yelling obscenities at the newcomers - and at him in particular. Already he was standing way too close for comfort for Dean and his entire presence was daunting to Dean, unlike Benny’s before. The grin that he was flashing Dean, was too cocky even for Dean’s liking. »That’s Gadreel Penikett - highly dangerous and crazy.«

»Good thing you’re not, right?« Dean found himself scoffing. »Surely you are completely innocent.«

»I would never claim to be.« The man grinned and licked his lips, his eyes never leaving Dean’s face. »Name’s Eldon. I saw you arriving yesterday. It's Dean, right?« He didn't even want to know how Eldon knew his name. Then again, prison was probably one of the places were rumors and news spread like wildfire. A bunch of men with too much time on their hands to chat and gossip.

»Yeah, I noticed you.« Dean scoffed as he took a step away from Eldon. He was giving him the creeps the way he was staring at Dean, trailing down his body as if he was just a piece of meat. To him, that was probably exactly what Dean was. »Real classy.«

»I can't resist when I see a hot thing like you enter my kingdom.«

»Your kingdom?« He mocked. »I’m afraid I don't see a throne, your highness.«

»Yet you could become my queen.«

»Sorry, Pal, I don't swing that way.«

»That's what they all say when they first get here.« Eldon smirked. »But I assure you that everyone changes their mind after a while in prison. Hey, I’m not gay, but a man has needs, right? And I promise you, having me as your man would be beneficial for you, Honey. I will be good to you.«

»No, thank you.« Dean huffed as he noticed how Gadreel was looking at them from the basketball field in a way that he could not quite place his finger on yet. He didn't even quite know what had drawn Gadreel’s attention towards them in the first place. »You’re not my type. I don’t like blondes.« He could see how Eldon’s mood changed from almost playful, yet creepy to outright angry. _Ah, this one does not take rejection well, huh?_ The thought crossed his mind too quickly, just like what Eldon would do next, so he was ready as the punch came to deflect it and push Eldon away from himself.

»You made a mistake.« Eldon hissed and Dean grew dimly aware of the group of guys that were taking up position just behind his new friend Eldon after getting up from their respective spots on the benches. Well, crap. Day one and already he had made himself a few new enemies. It was not even noon yet. He would have a damn good time the next fifteen years as it seemed. The moment the group behind Eldon moved towards them, though, there was a sharp whistle coming from the basketball field and when Dean followed the sound he saw one of the other skinheads nod to the tower. The guards had them in their sights and Eldon took a step back with a grin, patting Dean’s shoulder. »You made a very big mistake, Sweetheart.«  As he walked past Dean he made sure to brush against his shoulder and Dean made sure not to stumble nor to falter. He was not afraid of this guy or his gang and he was damn adamant to show them.

※※※※※※※

**Valley Hope of Atchison, Kansas**

Sam Winchester had never thought that he would ever find himself in a place or situation like this and yet here he was, miles away from the one place he should be right now instead. His place was at law school in Lawrence and not in this house with those people that he didn't know and didn't care about. His place was at his little brother’s side to help him cope with this new situation, with the loss of his father _and_ their older brother. He was grieving and he should be grieving at home with his family - or what was left of it anyway. At least there were no bars in front of his windows, at least he didn't need to share a toilet with another guy in the same room as his bed was, at least he was not subject to harassment and danger 24/7, at least he was not wearing an orange jumper like his big brother Dean.

Dean … What was he going through right now? As Sam stared out of the window of his new home, he didn't even see the lush trees, the colorful leaves that were scattered here and there, or the huge garden behind the house. He could see his own reflection staring back at him through the glass, pale and tired. Green eyes like those of his brother and yet nothing alike. His eyes had always been lacking the sense of warmth that Dean’s possessed, missed these little specks of gold.

»Winchester.« The voice of Sonny Gibbons was a deep rumble but soft all the same as he addressed him from the door, followed by a gentle knock on the wide open door behind Sam. Sonny was one of the very few decent people that Sam had met in the last few weeks of his life and, luckily, the person in charge of the rehab center Sam stayed at for the next couple of months. A rehab center … How did it come this far? Only slowly Sam turned around to face him. He tried a smile, but failed miserably and the shift in Sonny’s expression, no matter how slightly it was, told Sam that the older man had caught his failure and was probably just all too familiar with what was going on inside Sam’s head just now.

»Hey, Sonny.« He murmured. »Everything alright?«

The man leaned against the wooden doorframe and crossed his arms, but his dark eyes remained soft as he looked at Sam. »I was about to ask you the same thing. Robin said you didn't show up to your therapy session this morning.« He wasn't scolding Sam like a petulant little boy who had skipped school, not even disappointment. His voice still sounded understanding and Sam would rather have him yelling at him like Dean had after their father’s death, like Dean had as Sam had been lying in this hospital bed after he had just barely escaped death.

»I don't think music therapy does much for me.« Sam sighed and leaned against the windowsill.

»You haven't even tried it.« Sonny smirked, before a small sigh left his mouth. »Maybe a more hands-on exercise will help you get your mind off the things that worry you.«

»I'm not worrying about anything.« Which was of course a blatant lie and Sonny was able to see that right away. He didn't dignify Sam’s lie with a response, though.

»Come on, Sam, I could use a little help with the firewood anyway.« There was no way to get around this and so, Sam found himself in the back garden just a few moments later. He was not in the mood to argue anyway and he felt that arguing with this man would only make him look stupid and even more so like a spoiled brat than just being here did. During his teenage years he and his friends had joked about places like this right here and claimed that only white little rich girls with daddy issues would ever find themselves in here. They had been stupid to think that. »You know, Sam, I used to lead a home for troubled boys a few years ago, before I moved to Kansas and opened up this place instead to help people like you get back to their feet.«

Somehow, Sam was not even offended to be thrown in the same bucket as the other junkies in this house. Well, he was one of them after all, wasn't he? »Why did you change from a home for boys to a center for drug rehabilitation? Isn't that quite the big jump?«

Sonny laughed at his words while he gathered the ax from the old tree stump it was stuck in out in the back before he grabbed the first chunk of wood and set it in place. He remembered watching his father chop the firewood when he was little, his nose pressed against the window of the living room. Later Dean had taken over this duty. Never Sam, though. »You see, I used to be in a gang when I was younger and ended up behind bars. Big surprise, I know. However, being put in prison was, in the end, the best thing that could have happened to me. It made me realize what was really important in life and so I tried to help boys like me before they would find themselves in the same situation as I.«

Sonny slammed his ax down on the piece of wood to split it in half for Sam to watch. »It was a success for many years, but then the government stopped funding my project and I couldn't afford taking care of my boys any longer. I kept the house open for as long as I could with donations, to help the remaining boys that were still in my care and didn't have families left, but after they left the nest at last, I knew I had to find something else. In prison, I saw what drugs could do to a person and during my work with those boys too for many had problems with drugs or alcohol despite their tender age. I admit, I had a problem with drugs myself in my youth and so I thought opening up this place right here, might be a good idea.«

»You are a good person, Sonny.« He reminded him a lot of his big brother, always watching out for other people, always trying his best to give back to society, always doing the decent thing, even if it wasn't the easy thing to do.

»I do what I can. Same as you.«

»I haven't done much good, though.«

»But you still can when you get back to university and become a lawyer. You’re still very young, Sam. You still have your whole life ahead of you.« He would never be as good as Dean, though. Sometimes he wondered if this path he was taking was the right one. »What's wrong? Did I say something?«

»My father was so proud when I was accepted at law school.« Sam sighed as Sonny handed him the ax. »But now I wonder if I should have followed in my brother’s footsteps instead. Maybe I should just have become a cop, like Dean. Maybe I’m not cut out to be a lawyer anyway - I mean look where I am now. First opportunity I got to rebel, and what did I chose? Heroin. That's not the wisest choice to make.«

»Your brother, Dean« Sonny began as Sam chopped away at the wood in front of him after Sonny had placed it there. It felt good as the blade of the axe cut through the wood and parted it right in the middle. »He is in prison, right? How do you feel about your brother?«

»I always looked up to him - still do - always admired his courage and strength.« Sam was quiet for a moment. He didn't want to talk about Dean, he didn't even know what to say to Sonny now and yet his brother and everything Sam had destroyed with his addiction was all he could think about ever since he had gotten here.

»He was put in prison for the murder of your drug dealer, Ruby, is that right?« He would rather forget that day. Everything had been just so horrible. He had been in the hospital after he almost died from an overdose, his father had died that same night from a heart attack and then his brother had killed Ruby. His Ruby. Everything had happened at once and there had been no way to stop it from spiraling out of control so quickly. Now Dean was behind bars, not even two months later for he had plead guilty immediately.

»I … I don't blame him for killing Ruby. I just wished he hadn't done it. I wished … I wished I would have been smarter.« His voice trailed off again. »Had I become a cop instead like Dean … Maybe I would have never met her.« And then his brother wouldn't rot in jail and his father would still be alive. His drug habit had broken his heart. Dean or Adam would never say it, but Sam knew that his overdose was the reason that his father had died.

No matter how long he would stay here. No matter if he would ever be able to overcome his addiction, this was something he would never be able to overcome. His father's death, Ruby and Dean … The blood was on _his_ hands and it would forever remain this way.

※※※※※※※

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

»I heard that you pissed of Eldon today.« Castiel said as Dean entered the cell and found the other young man standing at the sink with his shirt off and toweling down his face. Apparently, Castiel had the weird habit of shaving in the evening. »That was not a very wise decision.«

»A good evening to you too, _Castiel_.« Dean smirked as he crossed the cell just to sit down heavily on his bed and now caught his first glimpse of a large tattoo that was spread out over most of Castiel’s back, shoulders and biceps. He hadn't expected someone like Castiel to have such a big tattoo - or any tattoo at all, let alone huge wings like the ones he was sporting. Would he spread his arms to his sides, it would look like he was spreading his wings. Needless to say, Dean Winchester had always been a sucker for fancy tattoos and yet he did his very best not to show it now. »I already came to this conclusion myself, thank you. So, how did you spend your day? Went out shopping? Had a nice day at the Spa with your girlfriends?«

Despite what he had thought how Castiel might react to him being so cocky, or after what Benny had told him about Castiel, the other man actually smirked a little as he now turned around to face Dean. Well, Castiel was not at all a scrawny little dude. His muscles were well-toned and a lot more prominent than Dean would have expected. »You met Benny Lafitte.« Castiel replied with a faint smirk pulling on his lips before he grabbed his discarded shirt from the top bunk to pull it back over his torso. It was no question and Dean didn't care where he got that information or conclusion from, but he wasn't going to deny it.

»Of course I have. I couldn't have escaped him even if I had known what I was in for.« He chuckled. »Nice guy.«

»You should be more careful in the future, Dean.« Castiel huffed and cast one last long scrutinizing look down at Dean before he gracefully climbed onto the top bunk. »Benny is just nice because he wants to sell you stuff. You shouldn't take him up on his offers.«

»It's not my first rodeo, Cassie.« As he flopped down on his back now that Castiel was out of his field of vision anyway, he couldn't do much more than stare at Castiel’s mattress from below. »But it's good to know that I have a guardian Angel watching over me. Really, a nice fuzzy feeling.«

»I’m guessing that is an allusion to my name.« More alien than angel, Dean thought. Still, the wings on his back were very fitting for an angel, maybe even more than for a bird of prey - and Dean was quite sure that this had been the intent. »My father was a very religious man.« Castiel continued quietly. »Everyone in my family has a name referring to an angel. Apparently, my father ran out of ideas when he got to me, though. _God is my shield_ , that's what my name means, however, my brothers liked to refer to me as the Angel of Thursday. Of course, I was born on a Thursday - so … I guess it was inevitable.«

Somehow it was nice listening to Castiel talk, no matter how weird it was what he said. His voice had a nice timbre, a certain gentleness despite the gravel of it. »Yeah, I know how that is. My mother liked that stuff too. She decided it would be a good idea to call me Michael for my middle name - after the archangel, of course. Well, look at us, Cassie. We have the names of angels and yet we are stuck in hell.«

He didn't know if Castiel got the irony of that or not because there was no response and so, Dean just turned on his side and decided that he would wait for the light to be turned off. At least Castiel had not yet tried to do anything to him or threatened him in any way. Yet, as the doors were shut automatically and the lights turned off in the cellblock, Dean was not able to find sleep right away. Instead, he kept staring at the mattress above him.

 _Castiel Novak_.

The Pellegrino family. It was almost a little too coincidental even for Dean’s taste.

 

**-End of Chapter 3-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a comment, I always love to read what you guys have to say <3


	4. Chapter 4

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

_»I have a deal to offer you, Mr. Winchester.« The woman who was with him inside the investigation room was presumably not much older than Dean and yet she had already made her way into the FBI. Her eyes were a warm brown that did not miss the much-needed sharpness this job required and yet gave Dean the impression of a woman that was willing to listen to another person wholeheartedly. Maybe she was one of the few people that did not see a living, walking monster in him. The way she sat on her chair, leaned back and her legs crossed leisurely, indicated that she was in charge of the situation despite the fact that she might be willing to consider giving him a second chance - unlike all the other cops Dean had spoken to ever since he had found himself on the wrong side of the law. Her brown hair she wore in a ponytail and Dean wondered if it wouldn't look better short but the woman was quick to take his mind off of these unnecessary details. »I’m Agent Jody Mills, Mr. Winchester.«_

_»A deal?« He asked and felt as if he wasn't yet entirely in possession of his own voice again. It sounded weak and thin and every time he needed to talk he felt like he was going to throw up, despite the fact that his stomach was empty. He hadn't eaten in days. He just couldn't bring himself to get anything down. In two days he would be sent off to prison and from then on he would spend fifteen years behind bars. Maybe a little less if he would behave properly._

_Agent Mills smiled at him, almost fondly, but maybe that was only a figment of his imagination, for as she leaned forward and rested her weight on the table between them now, Dean knew that this deal she had to offer him, might push him into an even darker pit of despair and danger. »You ever heard of the Pellegrino family?«_

A loud sound ripped him from his dream and as Dean shot up straight in his bed, he actually hit his head on the top bunk overhead. »Fuck!« The curse escaped him before he could even do anything about it, pain shooting from his head through his entire body.

»It's 6:30.« Came the reply from the top bunk before a pair of long legs swung over the edge of the bed above Dean, bringing Castiel’s feet right on eye level with him. He had to bite back an annoyed groan as he witnessed how Castiel was descending down from his nest to walk straight up to the sink and brush his teeth while scratching his belly with one hand. Maybe his other cellmates had committed suicide because of the annoying habits of the other guy or because his stares had unnerved them just too much.

»Morning, Sunshine.« Dean yawned instead of cursing at him and flopped back down again. He had to wait until Cas was finished anyway so he might as well just rest for a moment longer. There was a mumble coming from the other man that Dean didn't quite catch due to the toothbrush that was currently lodged between Cas’ teeth as he turned around. He looked as if he had not slept all that much with dark circles under his eyes. Perhaps he had more troubles sleeping in the same room as a stranger than Dean had. »What was that?« He sighed watching Castiel. »Dude were you raised in a barn? Don't talk while brushing your teeth that's disgusting.«

Castiel directed a dark scowl at him but at least he turned around to spit out before he faced Dean again. »I asked if you decided what you are going to do with your time in prison already.« He repeated with that dry voice of his and his ridiculously blue eyes drilling into his own in this same intense fashion that was so unnerving to Dean already.

»You mean if I decided which gang I want to join?« Dean couldn't help but roll his eyes at Castiel's nod. »There would be only one gang I could join anyway and I don't really agree with the Nazi doctrine, my friend. So, no gang for me. I’m not one for peer pressure anyway and although I’ve got quite a lot compliments and advances thrown at me yesterday, I decided that I rather stay single. You know - waiting for the right person and stuff.« If Castiel had understood the joke, he didn't show it, his face remained a mask of stoic calmness - with the hint of confusion.

»Good.« Castiel finally replied. »Maybe that's better. I would advise you to take on a job, though. The days in prison tend to be long without something to do.«

»I’m applying for kitchen duty today. I’m a great cook, actually.« Dean smirked. »I cooked for my brothers and my father almost my entire life and they loved my food.« Castiel did not seem very interested in his stories and yet, Dean had made up his mind. He would befriend that weird little guy, whether he liked it or not because, apparently, no one else in this hell hole had the balls to do so. Yes, Benny had warned him about Castiel, yes it was pretty clear that people were afraid of him because he was part of the mob, yet, Dean Winchester had always been a sucker for danger. »So, tell me, why are you in here anyway?«

»I killed my brother.« The response didn't come right away but with a small amount of hesitation, just enough so that Dean was able to assume that he was regretful of his crime. Still, Dean couldn't deny that he felt his stomach turn at this revelation. He was not surprised that Castiel was a murderer like him and yet, killing one’s own brother was a special brew of depravity - maybe even worse than killing one’s own parents. He couldn't help but think of Sam and Adam. No matter how angry he had been with them in the past, no matter how furious he had been as Sam had started doing drugs or after what he had done led to his father's death, he could not imagine that he would have ever hurt his brothers in any serious way. He would rather die than seeing them hurt - or hurting them himself.

Sure, he had fought quite a lot with Sam while growing up. That was only normal. He had landed a few good punches at Sam’s jaw in the past and so had Sam, but killing his little brother? He couldn't imagine ever getting to this point.

»Why are you here?« The question came almost out of left field after Dean had grown silent for a moment, but as he looked at Castiel now, he noticed the serious curiosity in his blue eyes. Had he seen Dean as a possible nuisance previously, who infringed on his territory, now he seemed inclined to learn a little more about him of his own volition and that was at least a small step in the right direction - at least in Dean’s book.

»I killed my little brother's drug dealer.« He replied with a faint smile on his face as he sat up in his bed now that Castiel was done with brushing his teeth, apparently. There was a slight moment of hesitation from Castiel as his eyes remained on Dean’s face almost unreadable to the young ex-cop as if he was searching for something in his eyes before he returned to the sink to splash water in his face a little too quickly. Had he found what he had been looking for then?

»You love your little brother very much then.« It was a statement and not a question as Castiel dried off his face and turned around again. »Not everyone would do something like that for their siblings.«

»Sure do.« Dean shrugged. »Both of them. I would do anything for them.« He had to remind himself that it wasn’t wise to tell someone like Castiel, someone who was part of one of the most dangerous crime families of the U.S. so many personal details about himself and his family.

»Even if it means going to jail.« Castiel said and it was the first time that he broke eye-contact with Dean while talking. Instead, his gaze shifted to the small, barred window that was located over the toilet in the back of their cell. For a second there, Dean couldn't help but remember the large tattoo that was now all covered up again and he couldn't deny that the imagery of a caged bird that longed for freedom was almost a bit too intrusive now.

»Even if it means going to jail.« He smirked as he followed Castiel’s gaze out of the window.

※※※※※※※

The rumbling of the washing machines and dryers in the laundry room reminded him of the night Balthazar died. It had been a dark and stormy night with thunder rumbling in the distance and Castiel was certain that he would never be able to forget that night or the moment Balthazar fell over the railing of the balcony and crashed into the ground below. He tried to shake off the image in his mind of his older brother, one of the people he had been the closest to all his life, dead on the ground with blood pouring from the wound in his skull.

He forced himself back into the moment, however, as he closed the washing machine he was standing in front of with a slam that made one of the other new inmates flinch violently. He was by now used to this reaction that some of the younger inmates seemed to have all adopted when being in the same room as he was. Needless to say, Castiel had never done anything in prison to really garner that much fear from the people around him, but ever since the news that he was, in fact, a Pellegrino had spread, no one even dared to look in his general direction for the most part. There were always a few assholes, some of the other gang members like Eldon Styne and his despicable minions that didn't know their place and would indeed try to fuck with him, but Castiel knew how to defend himself.

He was not a big fan of unnecessary violence, not even in this hell hole he had been thrown into after Balthazar's death, but if it was called for, he would not shy away from breaking another man’s jaw. Oddly enough, his new cellmate, Dean Winchester, was the first person in a very long time that even dared to speak to him in a sarcastic manner and who would not cower in fear of the repercussions. It was true that there were quite a few members of the larger Pellegrino family in this very prison with him, but most of them were low life criminals, nothing more than petty thieves or drug dealers that fucked up. Michael, though always preoccupied with keeping the family's reputation clean, would never even move a finger to help any of these creatures that were working for him. Sadly, Castiel was only one more cockroach in his big brother’s eyes and that only because they did not have the same mother.

Still, having so many other members of his mob family in prison too meant that he had a silent army waiting for his command, like a fourth, a secret, prison gang. Everyone who was in here for a little while longer new about them.

His first memories included blood and death and his brother Lucifer smiling down at him with the bloody meat cleaver still in his hands, blood drip-drip-dripping down from the blade to the ground, the severed limbs of the man he had killed still to his feet and the message clear. No one would ever lay a hand on Castiel again without meeting these consequences. No wonder he would end up in such a place. And although he was of the same blood as them, if it was about survival, Castiel was nothing for Michael, Lucifer, Raphael or even Gabriel and he would be wise to remind himself of this truth. Every bit brotherly love that had been shown to him during his life, was nothing more than an illusion in the end. He couldn't help but notice how his thoughts wandered back to Dean Winchester again and how much he envied that man’s younger brothers.

Castiel had never learned how it was to have an older brother who would even give up his own freedom for the wellbeing of his younger siblings. Sure, Lucifer had killed a man who had grabbed Castiel when he had been just a small child to take him away, but killing was in Lucifer’s nature. It was ingrained in their family. It was in their blood. To Lucifer, killing was second nature, an instinct, nothing more than that. Killing a man who had dared to attack his blood meant nothing but the satisfaction of ending another cockroach’s life.

Dean, however, although he had killed for his brother, had paid the ultimate price for it with a smile and gave up his freedom too. Castiel wanted to believe that there was a difference. And that difference was important. At least, Castiel wanted to believe that this difference was important because neither Michael, nor Lucifer, nor Gabriel or Raphael had taken any action to prevent Castiel from being sent to jail. And that was the difference, right? They would kill for him but they would never risk anything of importance, let alone their own freedom, for him so that he could fly under a clear blue sky.

※※※※※※※

One of Dean’s best memories was the day his little brother Adam was born. Of course, he kind of remembered the birth of Sam as well, but he had only been four years old then and spent his day with Bobby at home, playing with his toy cars with the old drunk while his mother and father had been at the hospital. He remembered, though how it was when his mom and dad came home with Sam a few days later. He had been too small to hold his newborn brother, but he remembered how proud his father was looking down at his two boys. Sam had looked quite a lot like an unhappy little raisin with a tuft of dark hair but in Dean’s presence, he had always been calm and contempt. Adam’s birth, however, had been different. He had been eleven years old when Adam had been born and taken care of seven-year-old Sam for the most part. However, he remembered going to the hospital with his little brother after his father had called him to tell him that Adam was there. He remembered holding that little newborn thing carefully while sitting on a chair next to Kate’s bed. He had been a lot heavier than one might assume. Heavy like the sack of flour he was finally allowed to put to the side.

»Geez!« Dean wheezed with a small laugh. »Almost forgot how heavy these things are!« He straightened his back with a small sigh. Kitchen duty was a lot more hard work than he would have expected.

»I thought you were a cook assistant?« The cook, an unpleasant man who always smelled like onions and three days old grease, snarled. The cook himself was not one of the inmates but in charge of the ones that were working with him. Until now, he had not yet looked through Dean’s lie of being a former cook assistant. Then again, Gerald was hardly the sharpest tool in the shed.

»Yeah, sure was but we usually made the trainees do the heavy work.« He laughed.

»Well, now you’re the trainee.« Yes, Dean thought looking at his work, that was without a doubt very true. Peeling and washing potatoes was undoubtedly the job of the trainee but at least it was work and work would put his mind at ease. He was rather working until his hands would start bleeding instead of hanging out uselessly with the chance that his mind would start to wander and yet, he couldn't spend the entire day inside the kitchen and that he knew too. It was his third day as a kitchen assistant, his fourth day in prison and by now he had established a routine and yet being here was still uncomfortable.

He was not going to lie. Being in here was the worst thing he had ever got to experience, worse even than going camping with two moody teenage brothers during a storm. It wasn't as if he hadn't expected that and he wasn't surprised either. Just how big the effect on him would be … that he had not expected. However, he felt the pressure of the life behind bars already pushing down on his shoulders and there really was nothing he could do about that. There was no way out, no way to cope and slowly, after four days already, he started to get a feeling as to why the people in prison were the way they were. It was beyond depressing to be locked up like that, to not have anything proper to do except the almost always dull work or picking fights with other inmates. Already he had started to value books a lot more again. During his normal life, he barely had time to actually sit down with a book and pulling out his phone or browsing the internet had been so much more easy anyway. Now, he found himself in the library quite frequently. And at least there he could escape most of the filthy looks he got. There he found Castiel too most of the time.

Already they had fallen into a comfortable rhythm around each other. Castiel was still an alien and not talking very much and when he did, it was strange what he said, mostly throwing weird facts or statistics at him. Still, it was comfortable being around Castiel. They were getting along when they were in their cell together although Dean had started to notice what a twitchy sleeper that guy was. Needless to say, Dean’s nights had started to get more restless since he had noticed Castiel’s unrestful sleep. A part of him wanted to shake that little garden gnome or tuck him in properly. It wasn't too hard to see why Castiel was feared by many of the other inmates for sure, but on the same instant, sometimes, for Dean, it was not easy to see the brother murdering sociopath that he probably was behind that pretty face of his.

As Dean later walked through the endless maze of corridors that was the prison to venture into the showers now that most of the assholes were out playing basketball or lifting weights in the gym, he couldn't shake off what Benny had told him about Castiel. The youngest of the Pellegrino brothers, one of the most dangerous families in Kansas. Criminals, drug dealers, petty thieves, murderers, they were all collected under the belt of Michael Pellegrino the head of the family, oldest of the seven Pellegrino brothers and the one who gave all the orders since the death of their father. In his youth, Dean had believed that the mob only existed in movies like the Godfather. Maybe he had been naive about the brutal reality of the world back then but today he knew a lot more about the big crime families and syndicates of America and the world - and the Pellegrinos were one of the biggest in this part of the country. Almost every drug dealer in Kansas was one of theirs and yet until now there was no proof of any criminal activity directly connected to the main players of the family, the inner circle, so to say. Dean had been very quick to learn that there were certain people in the world not to fuck around with, even as a police officer because his badge would neither protect him nor his family from an attack of those people and none of them would get blood on their hands directly. They were sleazy and resourceful, businessmen to the outside world, welcome faces in the high society all around the globe, entrepreneurs, and filmmakers, lawyers and bankers. They invested into charity while they were bribing police and judges at the same time. But getting a glimpse behind the scenes would quickly reveal the darkness behind the blood-red curtains. Prostitution, weapon deals, drugs, thievery, blackmailing, kidnapping, torture, and murder. That was the true Pellegrino family - but no one in their right mind would ever go against them. They were truly untouchable and all of them had the names of angels.

_»We had a guy on the inside.« Agent Mills said after a moment of clear hesitation, still leaning on the desk between them. »One of the Pellegrinos closer acquaintances, who was thrown in jail for drug offences.«_

_»I thought the Pellegrinos would save their people from jail.«_

_»They do, if they believe it's worth it or profitable to invest in a lawyer or bribing the judge, but not when they feel them helping someone getting away with something could damage their good reputation in the public eye or would lead to suspicion from us. Michael Pellegrino is very invested in keeping the family’s reputation clean in the public eye. He is a smart man, after all, and cares a great deal counterarguing the rumors about his family. The golden age of the mafia is over, after all.« Agent Mills leaned back and, after a moment of rummaging in her bag, she pulled out a file, placed it on the table between her and Dean and opened it, showing him the photograph of a balding man with tired and droopy looking eyes. He looked like a man who had been spit out by society after working countless hours behind the same desk for all his life with no reward whatsoever._

_»Zacharia Smith.« She said shoving the photography close to Dean. »That's how he looked when he was put behind bars. He was one of the top dogs in the mob. He was a bookmaker, but had a hand in blackmailing and drugs too. Sleazy to no end and very uncomfortable to be around. We only got him because he was pulled over by traffic police who found that Mr. Smith was driving under the influence of heavy drugs. Still, we got in contact with him - in secret, of course - when he was thrown into the pit. We offered him a deal, promised him to get him into witness protection if he would testify against Michael or any of his brothers so that we would finally be able to tear them down for good.« Hesitantly she pulled a second photo out of the file and pushed it towards Dean too._

_It showed Zacharia again, without a doubt and yet, it wasn't quite so easy to tell at first glance. His face was smashed in but it was the same bald head at least. »Shortly after he agreed to our deal, he was found beaten to death in the showers of Leavenworth prison. The Pellegrinos have their men everywhere, Mr. Winchester. What I propose to you is dangerous, as you can see.«_

Dean was alone as he entered the showers, thankfully. It was not exactly wise to go into the showers alone but he wasn't scared and he didn't want to appear scared. Of course, he was aware how stupid that was. His pride shouldn't matter to him that much in here. Still, he didn't want to go looking for Benny or even Castiel only because he was afraid to meet the big bad wolf inside the showers. He could defend himself if necessary, at least that was what he liked to tell himself in here. Still, he should probably take on Benny’s advice and offer to go to the gym with him soon. A bit more muscle mass wouldn't hurt.

Dean hurried to get out of his clothes as he was in the room that led into the showers itself, putting the uniform neatly to the side on one of the benches before he wrapped his towel around his narrow hips and walked into the showers. Finding it deserted was truly comforting and Dean felt a weight dropping off his shoulders. Now he just had to be quick, he guessed as he stepped up to one of the showers to turn it on, his soap ready to be used and go into action. He wouldn't lie: He missed the shower at home. He missed being silly in the shower, to sing loudly and awfully under the spray of water. He missed coming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his head like a girl to make Adam laugh a little.

He doubted that, when he would get out, he would still find enough fun in those little things.

It was comfortably quiet inside the showers as Dean was getting soaped up. He didn't want to spend too much time in here, didn't want to risk anything now. Still, as he was massaging the soap into his hair to get it clean again and get rid of the cooking smell, he allowed himself a moment of quiet repose. Four days and his nerves were already wearing out.

The Pellegrino family. He couldn't shake it off and he knew that the deal Agent Mills had offered him was his only chance of ever getting out of here sooner than he was sentenced to. They would put him in witness protection, his family too. This was still the one thing holding him back. He couldn't do this to his family, could he? They would have to leave their lives behind and start over somewhere else, in a different country perhaps even and all of that just because Dean had made a mistake and because Dean didn't want to spend fifteen years in prison for that mistake that he made. He shouldn't be that selfish, should he? He couldn't push his family into so much more misery out of selfishness.

It just wouldn't be right for him to do that. Still, when he wanted to be free again and get out here alive, he needed to do that. He knew that it was just a matter of time until his true profession would be revealed and when this would happen he would be dead.

Just as he was rinsing out his hair, Dean grew aware of the footsteps echoing through the front room of the showers and he couldn't help but tense and yet he wasn't quite willing to show the sudden surge of anxiousness that was befalling him.

»Look what we have here!« Well, fuck. »Hey, Pretty, I knew we would get the chance for a romantic get together sooner or later.« Fucking Eldon and his fucking nazi minions. He didn't turn around and he didn't throw a stupid remark over his shoulder. It wouldn't make any sense anyway - That was what he should have done. That wasn't what he did do, though.

»I already told you, Eldon, I’m not interested. I’m straight.«

»So am I.« Eldon chuckled and Dean could hear his naked feet stepping closer across the wet tiles. »So are we all.«

»Yeah, sure.« Dean scoffed dragging the soap down his body pointedly not paying any attention to Eldon or his posse. »So if that's the case you can just leave me alone then and stop hitting on me. As I said, you’re not my type.« It wasn't exactly easy to blend out the eyes that he could almost feel tracing over his naked body as he washed up. Dean was not exactly shy about his body and had no bigger problem with nudity too. He had grown up to be quite confident of his body even. He knew he was good looking - that was the problem now. He _knew_ that he was good looking. He _knew_ that those guys were eyeing him up as if he was just some piece of meat, like the guys who would sit in a dingy bar and stare at girls from across the room, undressing them with their eyes or making crude comments even when they would walk by. He had always hated this kind of behavior but he had never experienced it directed at himself. He wouldn't lie: This was making him nervous, especially as he felt Eldon stepping even closer.

»I love it when they play hard to get.« He hummed as his right hand suddenly landed on Dean’s right hip. The situation was tense and the air so thick that it would be easy to cut it with a knife as the steam from the hot water made it all just oh so much more uncomfortable. »I didn't forget what you did the other day … I can't deny that it got me quite excited when you shoved me. You have balls, Deanie.« Eldon’s hand had moved between his legs faster than Dean could react at first, horrified by the situation itself but certainly not willing to play the poor victim here either. Instead, Dean grabbed Eldon’s wrist hard and with one swift move he had twisted Eldon’s arm on his back, pinning the other man with his front against the tiled wall in the same way he used to pin criminals against his car. The move came as a reflex. He hadn't thought about it, not even considered that this swiftness and the move itself could maybe give him away.

Eldon and his friends, however, were quick to come back to their senses and out of their surprised stupor and immediately there were hands on Dean’s shoulders pulling him away from Eldon and pushing him to the ground. Dean struggled with all he had against them as they started kicking him in the ribs, one foot connecting painfully with his jaw, making him curl up immediately to protect his head. Fighting back was not an option this time. He wouldn't be able to get back to his feet quick enough.

»Hey don't damage him, guys!« Eldon laughed. »We still need his pretty face! Come on, get him back to his feet.« Even as he was pulled up by his shoulders again, Dean struggled against the hold those ugly ass bastards had on him. He would not go down without a fight and the look he shot Eldon was sure to make that very clear as it was the first time that Dean was willing to have direct eye contact with the other man. Eldon didn't seem fazed, though, as he grabbed for Dean’s jaw almost bruisingly hard. »Such a pretty mouth. It would be a shame would we need to punch out all your teeth, right?«

Somewhere in the space behind them was a sound that sounded an awful lot like someone clearing their throat extra loud and as Eldon’s gaze shot up and over Dean’s shoulder to where the door was, he was all too quick to let go of Dean’s jaw. He didn't seem frightened, at least not in the typical way as his eyes flicked to the person who was probably standing in the doorway and back to Dean. Somehow, Dean’s first thought was that it was Castiel who had entered the scene, but this proved to be wrong.

»I would advise you to step away.« He hadn't heard the voice until now. It was deep and commanding but there was no sharpness in it as it remained calm and composed. A voice of a man who demanded authority and was used to get it too, much like his father. Eldon was quick to nod at his minions and just like that, they let go of Dean right away. He could hear the other guys leaving the shower again, apparently not willing to remain in the same room as the man who had just joined them. Eldon, however, remained where he was for a second longer, lingering about, giving Dean time to straighten his back but not looking over his shoulder to see who had saved him. He couldn't deny that a part of him felt a little humiliated that another guy had to save his ass - literally. He was a cop, after all. And yet, this was not his usual battlefield and Dean grew more and more painfully aware of that fact. Even all his training and knowledge of material arts, would not help him in here. »Eldon.« The voice came again and didn't change in sound or intonation in any way, yet it was enough for Eldon to pat Dean’s shoulder before he walked around him and left the room too. Somehow he couldn't fight that sinking feeling that he had managed to get out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Only as he heard how the newcomer moved with patting feet across the wet tiles and towards one of the showers, not paying too much attention to Dean now as it seemed, Dean turned his face to look at him. Gadreel. He was just walking up to his own shower and switched it on without so much as looking at Dean which made him even more uncomfortable all of the sudden. He was not willing to flee the scene like a scared little child although the scare was still resonating and vibrating through his body. Instead, he slowly staggered back to his shower, picked up the soap again and continued scrubbing himself clean, now perhaps even a bit more feverish than before because he could still feel Eldon’s hands on him.

»You shouldn't shower alone.« Gadreel spoke up after a while but he was still not looking at Dean, as the ex-cop noticed now that he himself shot him a glance and watched how Gadreel was washing up with no care in the world. »If you have to shower, take someone you trust with you. They don't try shit like this when you are not alone - usually.«

»Thanks, Buddy, but I’m not running around and search for a shower buddy like a little girl.« Dean scoffed as he finally turned off his shower and was quick to wrap his towel back around his hips again. He felt sick to the stomach and was still fighting to grasp the severity of the situation. Had Gadreel not come to his rescue, Eldon and his goons would have raped him. There was no question about that. It wasn’t just some distant possibility anymore. It was what would have happened without a doubt and Dean would not have been able to fight them all off.

»Your pride won’t help you in here, Dean.«

»I didn't know we knew each other already, _Gadreel_.« If Gadreel knew Dean’s name, then he might as well make sure that this weirdo knew that Dean knew his name too. Only that seemed to get Gadreel to look at him sharply out of his steel blue eyes. They were a lot colder than those ocean deep eyes Castiel possessed and there were no deeper questions hidden in them either.

»Castiel told me your name.« Gadreel replied after a moment, pulling his lips into a thin line and scrunching up his nose in a way that could almost be called an expression of something akin to disgust.

»So you know Cassie, huh?« Again, Gadreel took his time to find an answer as if taken aback by the nickname Dean gave his roommate. Well, he doubted that anyone in here would dare calling Castiel anything but his name, if talking to him at all.

»Everyone knows him.« Gadreel said and turned his face away again. The cop inside of him was sure that this was not the answer Gadreel would have wanted to give him.

※※※※※※※

Castiel was not surprised as the day came to a close and he bore witness to Dean’s walk of shame back to their cell with bruises on his face. And although he wasn't surprised to see Dean battered, he couldn't deny the instinctive rush of anger that was shooting through his system at the sight. He was by no means an overprotective person, especially not when it came to strangers he hardly knew anything about and yet, seeing Dean hurt made him furious for some odd reason.

»Turns out Eldon is an even greater dickbag as I gave him credit for previously.« Dean tried to distract him from the state he was in now with this low sense of humor he possessed as he entered the cell and flopped down on his bed right away. »Geez, thankfully Gadreel was there to save my ass - literally. I didn't know you two were buddies.«

»We are not.«  Castiel sighed right away, suppressing his initial surprise to the news that Gadreel had actually intervened in a situation like this. Maybe that was not even the most surprising thing and it clearly wasn’t what was bothering him either. Dean had been attacked. Well, that had to be expected and yet Castiel would not have thought that Eldon would make a move on Dean like that so quickly.

»He said you talked to him.« Dean tried to get his attention again and ripped Castiel from his wandering thoughts. It wasn’t that he was worried for Dean, a man he hardly knew, and yet, he seemed to be a good man, an honest, righteous man despite the crime he had committed. Seeing people like this man being broken and twisted by prison, was always hard even for someone like Castiel.

»He isn't much of a talker.«

»So you do know him.«

»He’s a fellow inmate. Everyone knows him.«

»What did he do to land his ass in prison?«

Castiel found himself pausing at this, unsure what to say, but knowing that Dean would not drop the topic. »Nobody knows the exact reason. Some say he was a terrorist, some say he is a serial killer - choose what you like best because he won't tell you.«

»You didn't tell me how long your sentence is.«

»You didn't ask. It's thirty years. I am going to be an old man when I get out. that's what you get for killing your brother.« Dean grew silent at this once more and Castiel could only take guesses why. »Anyway, you should stay away from Eldon Styne and his minions. Gadreel won't be there to save you every time you fuck up. That is not really his strong suit anyway.«

»Styne?« Dean’s voice suddenly picked up again and Castiel could hear how he moved into a sitting position. »Like … The crime syndicate family Styne?«

»You know them?«

»No.« Dean’s answer was too quiet to be the truth but as the lights went out, Castiel realized that their conversation was already over and yet, he couldn't just let it end like this.

»You have to be more careful. Eldon and his minions are dangerous, Dean. His older brother died in prison a few years ago and Eldon is headset on not letting the same fate befall him. He is the one responsible for most of the crimes that are committed in here, whether it's rape or murder. Don't provoke him, Dean.«

Dean took a while to respond, making Castiel believe that he would not respond at all. But when the answer to his warning came, it was barely above a whisper. »It's too late for that.«

**-End of Chapter 4-**


	5. Chapter 5

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

Eldon Styne. The reality of this was slow to sink in. The Styne family. The Pellegrino family. Hell, what had he gotten himself into? In this night, Dean would probably not be able to find sleep at all this night, the reality of his new troubles much too present in the forefront of his mind. Eldon Styne. He was not just any psycho nazi-ass, he was a Styne.

As he lay awake in his bed this night and stared at the bunk above his own, he couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering. The Styne case, _Jacob_ Styne, had been one of the first cases he had worked on after he had finished police school and started working in the force. Jacob Styne had been one vicious piece of shit, involved in all kinds of disgusting crime, like the rest of his family and just like the Pellegrinos it had been almost impossible to prove their involvement in any crime. Jacob, however, had made one stupid mistake in that last crime he had committed and of all people, Dean Winchester had been the cop who had found the one piece of evidence that had damned Jacob to a life in prison - which had been cut short ultimately as he had been shanked by one of the other inmates only months after his incarceration. Nobody knew why he had been killed, and it didn't matter either.

Eldon could never know that Dean had been involved in his brother’s conviction. If Eldon was dangerous already as it was, just how much more dangerous would he become when he would learn the truth about Dean’s involvement in his older brother’s case? He would not kill him swiftly, that much was certain to Dean already. He would very probably take his time to make him suffer and make sure that his death would be agonizingly slow and painful - and as humiliating as humanly possible. Dean was by no means a coward, but in this night, as he lay awake, yes, he was frightened for his own life for once and not for his family's fate when he would no longer be there.

Maybe Castiel was right and he should try to find someone who would be able to protect him not only from Eldon but all the other assholes in this place. Someone with power and a reputation that was enough of a shield for the both of them.

※※※※※※※

**Lawrence, Kansas**

Adam Winchester never had troubles in school. He had always been a good student, always brought home good grades to make his father and his older brothers proud. He had never been the one at the receiving end of bullying or stupid remarks, probably because everyone in his school had always known that he had two older brothers who would rip everyone to shreds who dared to lay a hand on Adam in any way whatsoever. Lawrence was not the biggest city, after all, and so most of the other kids in school knew his brothers in some way or another. Some because their older siblings had went to school with his older siblings, some because they knew them from around town or because they were living in the same neighborhood. However, no matter how or why they knew his brothers, they would have never dared to make them angry in attacking their youngest brother. And, of course, Adam had always been liked among his peers anyway.

Things were different now and as this Monday morning arrived, Adam found himself sitting on the edge of his bed still in his pajamas although he needed to get moving so that he wouldn't be late for school. The alarm clock on his bedside table screamed the time at him in bold red LEDs. It was 7:30 AM and he only had half an hour left now to get dressed, leave and reach school on time.

He couldn't move, though.

He couldn't bring himself to get dressed. He couldn't bring himself to get up and go down into the kitchen to his mother. She had undoubtedly not prepared a lunch bag for him or even breakfast. Although his mother loved him dearly and was a very loving and caring woman, she had not much practice in caring for a teenager on an everyday basis and Adam didn't care. He could vent for himself, he didn't need his mother to take care of him like this. But he missed coming down into the kitchen and smelling the delicious scent of scrambled eggs and bacon only to find Dean standing at the stove humming a tune or singing awfully to a rock song that was on the radio, already in his police uniform. He missed sitting at the table with Sammy, taking jabs at each other until their dad would intervene from behind his newspaper with a stern glance but a little smirk pulling at his lips as he was watching his three boys.

Dean had always been quite the mother hen to all three of them - and to Adam’s mom too when she had visited them whenever her work would allow for it. That was just how he was, that was just who Dean was. That was his nature and Adam had taken him for granted all his life, that caring older brother who always made sure that they would have their lunch bags and everything else they needed. Now, that he sat here and stared at the white wall across his bed, thinking about how things used to be and how they should still be, he missed him so much that his stomach actually hurt. Not that this wouldn't have been the case anyway.

Even if his mother would make breakfast for him now, Adam would probably not be able to eat any of it without throwing up. He felt nauseous and he felt how his stomach was churning when he just thought about eating anything. Ever since his dad died, ever since Dean went to prison, the world just isn't right anymore. Nothing was right anymore and he hated every second of it.

»Adam, Honey!« His mother's voice was ringing through the house. Adam was surprised that she was even home and not in the hospital at this time of day. Her work schedule was the reason why she had left Adam with his father and brothers in the first place as he had been just a baby. She and his father had decided that a child needed stability and a parent that was actually home when he would be awake and Adam was glad that they had decided on this arrangement with his mother supporting his father with the bills and visiting whenever she could. Even though his parents had separated and decided that they couldn't function as a proper couple in the long run, they had been friends after their inevitable break-up and his family, though far from perfect, wonderfully chaotic and loving with Dean, his oldest brother, always trying to keep the balance between his younger brothers. »You’re going to be late for school, Muffin!« He could hear her steps on the stairs and he knew that she was going to come looking if he was already up or still asleep.

Adam had never been the type to skip school because he had always loved being at school, being with his friends and learning new things. His mother knew that and Dean would be disappointed with him would he need to bear witness to his little brother’s recent antics. Still, Adam remained seated on the edge of his bed until his mother had approached his door and knocked gently on it. His mother was lacking a firm hand when it came to parenting, simply because she hadn't been that involved in his parenting in the first place. John, his father, would not have knocked that gently at the door but would have already barged into the room to drag Adam out of his bed by the ankles with not even a hint of mercy. And if his dad wouldn't have, Dean would surely have done so already. His brother had always been merciless with his little brothers when it came to their duties.

»Adam?« His mother's voice followed her knocking before she opened the door slowly and carefully as if Adam was not supposed to be up already. When she found him sitting on his bed and staring at the wall across from his bed, she opened the door completely and leaned in the door frame. »Adam, Sweetheart, is everything alright? Don't you feel good?«

»I feel sick.« Adam quietly replied. The room he was staying at was his, had always been his and it had been furnished for him after his mother had moved into this house and yet it didn't feel like home. His posters were missing, his stuff was missing. He had, of course, taken most of it with him as he had moved into his mom’s home, but … it still didn't feel like home. He felt like a stranger. He missed the sounds of his old house, the constant noise when his brothers were squabbling with each other, the vacuuming that had annoyed the living crap out of him most of the time and the noises when his father had been working in the garden.

»Adam…« His mother sighed and left her save position at his door to cross the room and sit next to him on the edge of his bed. »Oh, Sweetie.« She put her arm around his shoulders in a silent invitation for him to lean against her and rest his head on her shoulder as he would usually do. »You feel sick ever since your brother was sent to prison, Muffin.«

»Is this really that much of a surprise?« Adam managed to bit out.

»Adam, we feel all bad because of it and we all want Dean to be back with us. You know that I love your big brother just as much as if he was my own son, but we can't do anything now, Sweetie. The only thing we can do it to continue living our own lives.« She brushed her fingers over his cheek with a smile. »What would Dean think would he see you like this, huh? He wouldn't want you to sulk. He wouldn't want you to feel bad. He would want you to flourish and have a great future ahead of you, right? He would want you to go to school and spend time with your friends.«

»What friends?« Adam scoffed finally as he broke apart from his mother only to stray towards his window and have a look outside where the world was looking just the way it did yesterday and as if everything was still as it should be while nothing could be farther from the truth. »All my friends left me because they don't want to be associated with the boy whose brother killed a drug dealer or with the boy whose brother is a heroin addict.«

»I know kids can be cruel, Adam, but-«

»You know nothing, Mom. Please, just spare me, okay?« He didn't want to be cruel to his mother. He didn't want to be aggressive but he couldn't help himself either. His brother was in prison for the murder of a criminal who had destroyed the lives of many people and that was not fair at all.

※※※※※※※

**Valley Hope of Atchison, Kansas**

It was the first time he would spend Halloween and Christmas away from his family - away from his big brother Dean. When he had moved out of his childhood home to go to college and live on the campus he had done so because he had wanted his freedom and to lead his own life, independent from his father and older brother, to make his own mistakes without anyone watching over his shoulder the entire time. He had imagined going from Halloween party to Halloween party and spending Christmas with his new cool friends somewhere in the mountains all alone, getting drunk and just enjoying his youth. Yet, since he started college, he had gone back home every year for every single holiday so that he would spend it with his brothers and his father instead.

This year it was just him at the rehab center, though. Adam would be alone with his mother. Bobby would be alone with his wife. Dean would be alone in prison. The whole family was torn apart just because Sam Winchester had ruined his life with the stupid decisions he had made in trying out drugs with this girl. And as he has destroyed his own life, he had destroyed his family and the lives of everyone in it too. He should have been a whole lot smarter than this. That was the problem, really. He _was_ smarter than this and yet he had fallen prey to this girl Ruby and her tricks. Now Ruby was dead and buried and Dean behind bars because he had thought that he had it under control, that he was above the addiction, that he was stronger than it. He had thought that he was invisible and in the end, he had flown too close to the sun. Now his life lay in ruins and there was nothing he could do about it except trying to get better and trying to redeem himself because unlike Dean, he still had a future while his brother had to pay the price for his mistakes.

Being in this house, in this rehab center, was a true challenge for Sam, though, as he was spending his time with actual addicts. Yes, of course, he was one too, but it was different than it was with them, right? They were _junkies_ \- actual junkies, like the people he only knew from tv shows and movies and he was not like them one bit! He was a normal guy who had stumbled and made a few mistakes. That was all there was to it in his case! There really was no reason why he shouldn't get better quickly, unlike those lost souls he shared a roof with nowadays. Most of them were destined to relapse and sooner or later succumb to their addiction.

Dean would club him over the head would he hear what he was thinking right now because apparently, Sam hadn't learned his lesson if he still thought he was different from the other patients in this place. He could recognize these thoughts, of course. That was the problem. On the one hand, he was able to rationally tell how stupid his thoughts were, on the other hand, he couldn't fight off these thoughts. He was not different from them in any way, as he needed to keep reminding himself as he was working in the garden behind the house. Working with his hands in the garden was actually beneficial to him and his mind. It helped him to get his thoughts off what happened, off of his brother’s fate and his own addiction.

There were a herb and a vegetable garden set up behind the house that the other patients and Sam tended to as part of their treatment and the much more profound work was actually very helpful to Sam as much as he had always hated gardening or manual work for that matter. His brother, Dean, had actually always quite liked it in the past. He had been the one who had mowed their front lawn on Saturdays and actually enjoyed the work that everyone else on their street had only performed oh so very reluctantly. Then again, Dean had always had a very hands-on approach to everything. Dean had always claimed that while Sam had the brains to make it far in the world, he was the brawn of their duo. Sam was not the only one in their family who knew that Dean was far from being stupid or simple in any way, though.

He was not alone in the garden, of course. There were a few other patients too but only one other girl working with Sam in the herb garden now. She had short blonde hair and big brown eyes. She was pretty without a doubt, and she knew that too, but there was a certain darkness in her eyes that he couldn't shake off or put his finger on. »You don't seem too happy to be here.« She hummed as she was digging in the dirt before her with the tiny gardening shovel and did not appear to be too motivated to actually do what she was supposed to while Sam was already moving another plant into the earth after he had taken it out of its small plastic pot. The work out here was almost meditative to Sam and a part of him was not too happy that he was going to be disrupted in his thoughts by this girl, Meg, as she had introduced herself to him a little while ago. He had met her a few times during group therapy already since he first set foot into this establishment. She seemed nice enough and yet something had always been holding Sam back from actually befriending this girl despite her outgoing nature and the fact that she seemed to be well-liked by most other patients and staff. Maybe it was his need to suffer for what he had done and caused that forbid him from forming friendships in this place as if a part of him was adamant that he didn't deserve relationships of any kind now.

»Who would be?« Sam replied finally as he shot her a small smile but Meg’s eyes on him remained questioning and almost a little too intense to his liking. Her stare was generally quite unnerving. She was like a cat who tried to stare deeply into Sam’s soul to find out every dark little secret about him. Even at first glance, one would have no problem to tell that she was a troublemaker.  

»Aren't you here because you chose to?« Meg enquired as she finally dropped her eyes back on her task.

»Sure.« Sam casually shrugged his shoulders. »And you?«

»My dad send me here.« Meg scoffed with a small roll of her eyes. »Said he would disown me and never allow me to get near my little sister ever again when I would drop out of this place and relapse.«

»If you do this just because you are forced to do it, you won’t succeed, though.« Maybe it was not Sam’s place to critique this girl or anyone who was here, for that matter. He was not better than them and he needed to remind himself of that fact, no matter how hard it might be to do just that and to get down from his high horse.

»That's what Sonny says too. But honestly, Sam, I don't have a problem with drugs. I mean, sure, I take drugs but it isn't like I couldn't stop when I want, you know?« She threw a look around them and then pointed her little shovel at some of the other patients in Sam’s back so that he was forced to turn his head and look over his shoulders. Meg pointed directly at a young girl Sam had seen quite a few times already too. She was extremely thin, her hair brittle and falling out. There was not one single time Sam had seen her when she had not been trembling from head to toe. She had her back to them, but Sam knew that her teeth were rotten out of her mouth and her once pretty face littered with marks coming from the drug she had been shooting up. »I mean look at them, Sammy, and then look at us. We are not like those junkies, right? _We_ can stop whenever we like, right? Or do you really feel the need to shoot up right now?«

Well, did he? She was right, wasn't she? He didn't feel the need to get high and shoot up heroin. He didn't feel the need for this rush of excitement he had felt when being high and was sure that most of it had come from being with Ruby anyway. She had been the epitome of temptation and Sam couldn't even tell why that was. Not at this moment, at least. However, he remembered his withdrawal still and how bad it had been. He remembered the pain he had been in as his body had started to get rid of the drug once and for all and how much he wanted a shot just to make himself feel better. He didn't want to go through this ever again and he didn't want Adam to ever have to see him like this again. Now that Dean was gone, he was the one who was supposed to take care of his family, he was supposed to be the big brother that Adam needed and deserved. That was why he had to get better quickly. He needed to get back to his family as soon as he possibly could to be there for Adam and, just once in his miserable life, make Dean proud.

And yet … Would Adam even want him by his side as the big brother he needed? Surely, Adam was blaming Sam for Dean’s predicament and he would be right to do so. Sam was the person who had made the mistake that had led to all of this horror. He was the one who had decided to cheat on his girlfriend, on this perfect and beautiful young woman who was so incredibly bright and yet stupid enough to fall in love with him. He was the one who had thrown away the love of his life - and for what? For a girl like Ruby. Sure, she had been pretty, she had been hot, she had been the exact opposite of the well-mannered girl next door Jessica, but other than that, Ruby had been toxic and he had known that right from the start. Beyond her pretty face and her gorgeous body, had lied nothing but depravity and darkness. And yet, this woman had caught him in her web and made him forget everything he had held dear up to the point when he had not even cared as Jessica had found him naked in his bed next to Ruby. He was the one who had destroyed all of this. His relationship, his academic career, his dream of ever becoming a lawyer because who would want to partner with an ex-addict? The worst part, however, was that he had also destroyed his family and his brothers' lives.

His thoughts wandered back to Adam and how truly heartbroken his little brother had looked when they had watched Dean getting led out of that courtroom. They hadn't talked much before Sam had left for this facility and Sam couldn't blame him. »You love your sister?«

»Sure do.« Meg smiled and glanced back at him now with curiosity written all over her face. »I would do anything for her, though she can be a pain in the arse.«

»Then I recommend you to get better, Meg.«

»Are you going to do the same, though?« As he looked at her this time, Sam couldn't quite name the feeling in the depths of his guts and he didn't even know if he wished he would be able to. »I mean … We could always just run away together, right?«

※※※※※※※

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

Dean couldn't help but feel defeated as he slowly walked across the yard. The day was grey and dull and it was only a matter of time now that it would start raining, maybe even storming. It was hard to say and he wouldn't deny that he missed seeing actual trees around so that he would be able to watch how the wind would be moving through the leaves. He had always found watching the trees in their back garden calming. His world had turned into an empty grey slate ever since he was here and today the sky was hard to tell apart from the asphalt of the ground too. A group of guys was playing basketball again and Dean was glad that the person he came to see was one of them as he felt the stares of some of the gang members that were hovering around the yard at this time of day burning on his skin.

Gadreel was a big guy and it did not come as a surprise that he was good at this sport. Still, Dean was surprised as he saw with what ease Gadreel dunked the basketball into the basket. His comrades cheered loudly but there was no shift in the expression on Gadreel’s face and now that Dean came to think about it, he couldn't recall ever having seen Gadreel talk to anyone really, except for what happened in the showers, of course. He didn't seem to have friends in here or at least people to talk to - with the exception of Castiel, apparently, although he still couldn't quite figure out what kind of relationship they had, let alone if they had one at all. Dean couldn't deny that he was curious about the man just as he was curious about Castiel.

He wanted to know more about his friend with the messy hair and those ridiculously blue eyes and yet it seemed impossible to really approach him or talk to him for more than a few minutes at once. Castiel didn't make it easy to talk to him. He didn't even know what to talk to him about while he couldn't forget what he was meant to do. Castiel could help getting his ass out of this prison. But how would he ever be able to bring him to talk about his family? He was still not sure if he wanted to get involved in the Pellegrinos’ mess anyway and who said that Castiel would not kill him instead of helping him anyway? What reason would he have to stab his family in the back?

As Gadreel’s comrades patted him on the back for his great dunk, Gadreel’s face still did not change one bit, only as he looked across the yard and caught Dean standing close to the basketball field now, he stiffened shortly, his brows furrowing as Dean just stood there. It came as a surprise as Gadreel suddenly threw the ball at him but at least Dean was quick to catch the ball with a cocky grin pulling on his lips. There was no sign that danger was waiting ahead of him as Dean slowly stepped closer with the basketball in his hands. Sure enough, the other guys looked at him with dark and gloomy eyes and not at all welcoming, but Dean's eyes remained on Gadreel instead and the tall man did not look as if he was about to punch his lights out. Throwing the ball at him had been a clear invitation to join and so that was what Dean would do as he started dribbling with the ball moving towards Gadreel. He had never been a huge basketball-guy, but, he supposed, he had to make due with what he got and everything was better than wasting his time just sitting around and pitying himself. He still had fifteen years left to do that, right?

It was more like a test than an actual game between him and Gadreel. It was not even a competition. Their eyes remained locked for most of it and to Dean, while the other guys that had been playing with Gadreel stayed back, it was pretty clear that this was Gadreel’s way of finding out of what material Dean was made. He wanted to see if Dean was weak. He wanted to see if Dean would cower because of the stories he had heard. He wanted to see if Dean was brave enough to actually challenge him and put his all into this without a fear of retaliation later. And Dean gave his best to deliver. Gadreel was, without a doubt, a strong man, a man who wouldn't let people fuck around with him, a man who was not a fan of bullshit or weakness. So, if he wanted something from Gadreel, if he desired his protection or an alliance with him, he first needed to show him that he was not a pussy. Simple as that. The game was quick and Dean did his best to keep up with Gadreel but it became clear pretty quickly that he could in no way do that. Gadreel was an adapt basketball player without a doubt and he seemed to have lots of experience both inside and outside of prison, as it seemed to Dean during their little game.

»You’re good!« Dean praised after one of the other inmates declared Gadreel the winner of their game - which came as no surprise to anyone. Still, as Dean glanced over his shoulder, he grew aware that he and Gadreel were the center of attention at this moment. It was probably not very often the case that someone would go near this man, let alone start a game with him - except for the guys who had been playing with him before. Everyone seemed to fear Gadreel just like everyone seemed to fear Castiel too.

Even Eldon Styne, a man who belonged to one of the most dangerous crime families of this part of the U.S. feared Gadreel Penikett, otherwise, he wouldn't have left Dean alone the other day in the showers after Gadreel had barged in to save him. Everything in him screamed that what he was doing was dangerous and possibly very stupid, but the incident with Eldon and his goons in the showers had showed him pretty clearly, that he was in dire need of allies and Gadreel seemed the most promising figure to fulfill this role, although Dean needed to keep in mind that Gadreel was not a good guy, despite the fact that he had indeed saved Dean.

Instead of a response from Gadreel, there was only a short nod that he granted him as a reward for his levity. Castiel was right, Gadreel Penikett was a man of few words and apparently not willing to engage in small talk with Dean just now, even as the other guys who had been playing with him previously, left the field to venture back inside. A glance towards the sky made it pretty clear as to why too. In a few minutes, the yard would be flooded for sure by the heavy rain coming their way. »I wanted to thank you for your help, the other day.« Dean addressed Gadreel again and brushed a hand over the back of his neck before he extended his hand to Gadreel. The other man’s eyes were just as cold as he looked at him now as they had been in the showers. Of course, he didn't shake his hand, just walked over to a crate to put the basketball away for the next day as more and more of the other inmates started to venture back inside. A part of him wondered if Gadreel would only speak to him when they would be alone, as he had in the showers. Then again, Gadreel did not strike him as a person that was very concerned with what other people might think about him.

The first few lazy drops of rain started to fall on the asphalt beneath Dean’s feet but he was not yet willing to retreat back inside too. »I know that things would have taken a much darker turn, had you not shown up when you did, Dude, and I know that I couldn't have done anything against it - being alone against a group of guys, I mean. I shouldn't have brushed your advice off like I did.«

»If you are looking for a shower buddy, as you called it, in me or some kind of protector you can stop trying to talk to me now.« Gadreel finally cut him off with this deep voice of his that didn't leave any room for interpretation. His voice was just as cold as his eyes were and Dean could almost feel his blood run cold as Gadreel looked at him once more. His were truly the eyes of a killer, truly the eyes of a man who knew no remorse, of a man who was closer to a monster than any criminal Dean had ever encountered during his career before. Yes, Eldon Styne was dangerous, yes, even Castiel Novak had something very bothersome and outright creepy about him but none of them could compare to what Dean felt now as he was looking in Gadreel’s ice-blue eyes. »I did not intend to save your ass from being raped like a little bitch, Dean.« His voice turned even lower. »It was just coincidence that I was there at the right moment and you should never mistake my help for kindness. I couldn't care less about what happens to you in here. You should better start to learn how things work in this place, Dean. A guy like you, with a pretty face like yours who grew up behind a white picket fence, only has two options in a place like this. It's either you become Eldon Styne’s bitch or you give the other inmates a reason to fear you.«

»What makes you believe I grew  up behind a white picket fence?« Maybe his voice sounded a lot more defensive than it should be, but Dean simply couldn't help it. He hated it when people made assumptions about him without actually knowing anything about his life or how hard it had been. Yes, he had a loving family. Yes, he had had a nice home. Yet, it had never been easy. Not with a father who had fallen prey to depression and alcoholism after his mother had died too early and too young. Not with the responsibility of caring for his baby brother while worrying that his father might drink himself to death.

»Everyone can see it, Dean. You are a stranger to the real world and how fucked up it really is. You are a guy who landed his ass in prison because of one bad thing he did. You grew up sheltered and this will be your demise in here if you don't play your cards out right. So either start sucking Eldon’s cock or kill him - your choice, but don't ever expect anyone in here to help you out of kindness. Everyone wants something from you in the end.«

As Gadreel walked past him, he didn't brush against Dean’s shoulder like he would have expected. He just left Dean out here in the yard by himself as the rain grew stronger, alone to gather his thoughts. So, no alliance with Gadreel Penikett then and that was, perhaps, for the better because Eldon Styne suddenly didn't look too unpleasing to Dean’s eyes anymore. He knew that Gadreel was right, and that was the worst in this dilemma. Everyone could see that he had led a normal life before prison and maybe that was even more dangerous than being outed as a cop. Guys like those inside this prison liked to play around with sheltered boys like him. And yes … he was sheltered. Despite everything, he had lived through and loaded onto his shoulders at a young age. It was true that he and his family had suffered hard blows in the past; the death of his mother, his dad being fired from his job right afterward, the separation of Kate and his father, Sam’s drug addiction - but until everything had spiraled out of control with Sam, before the death of his father, his life had been sheltered despite all this. He had a loving family, brothers who he loved to death and who loved him to death, a doting father, a caring surrogate uncle - those guys could probably smell this a mile against the wind.

»What now, Deano?« He sighed to himself and dragged a hand through his wet hair before he turned around and made his way back inside. He needed to go back to work anyway. Maybe he should try his luck with Castiel once again tonight. Maybe he would be able to get something out of him. Maybe, if he would be able to gain his trust, Castiel would be willing to help him in gathering information about his family’s crimes. Then again, why would Castiel help him against his own flesh and blood?

On the other hand, Castiel had killed his own brother in cold blood and did not seem to regret it. A man who killed his own brother would probably betray the rest of his family too, right?

 

**-End of Chapter 5-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think in the comments! <3


	6. Chapter 6

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

It was always noisy inside the visitation room and that was only one of the reasons why Castiel didn't like being here in the first place - not that he would get many chances to go inside this very room anyway. Usually, he was rejecting everyone who came to visit and talk to him because most of these people were strangers anyway. He didn't quite understand why it seemed to be the nature of the human race to possess an incessant need to find out every detail of a crime, no matter how far it laid in the past, perhaps. Still, over the last few years during which he was already rotting inside this prison, there had been numerous people that came to talk to him - not necessarily because they thought he was innocent, of course. Some came to gloat, some because they found him to be a fascinating figure from the way he and his person had been presented to the public eye back in the day as Balthazar’s murder had been broadcasted across the country in all its gruesome details. Apparently, he even had groupies out there and the answer to the question why that might be the case couldn't be farther out of reach for Castiel.

He would probably never understand his fellow human beings. One of the people that came as the biggest enigma to him, however, sat on the other side of the glass window as he was led to one of the few free chairs by a guard. Initially, he had wanted to turn his visitor away like all the others too, but when he had been told who came to see him, Castiel knew that it would be beyond stupid to send this person away. Yet, as he sat down between two other inmates on the uncomfortable little chair in front of the glass window and stared into the whiskey-colored eyes of his older brother, Gabriel’s smile betrayed once more just how dangerous he really was - even to his own little brother, if he had no other choice.

Castiel did not feel comfortable sitting between those other inmates who were talking to their visitors through the telephones they were pressing to their ears. He didn't feel comfortable not having the much-needed privacy to talk to his own brother but instead having to sit here like a chicken on a pole for everyone to see and possibly hear what they were talking about with this thick glass between them. This was, of course, for a perfectly good reason and Castiel knew better than to make a fuss about this.

For the longest moment, he just stared at Gabriel until his brother motioned for him to pick up the phone as he already held his in his left hand, urging him to do the same. Yet, Castiel found himself hesitating as his fingers hovered over the phone before he picked it up and pressed it to his ear. The similarities to his childhood days and the tin can phone he and his brother Balthazar had used a lot from room to room, didn't escape him. Balthazar had always been adamant that his great invention had been perfectly working, but Castiel remembered sitting on the windowsill of his room with the window wide open and Balthazar doing the same exact thing only a few feet apart so that they would have heard each other even without the tin cans attached to a string acting as a communication device. Still, as a child, Castiel had believed Balthazar’s every word and been in awe of his brother’s genius idea. Of course, Lucifer had taken their telephones away after he had first discovered them with glee in his eyes as he had succeeded in making Castiel cry while doing so.

»It's been a long time, lil’ brother.« Gabriel’s voice was still as smooth as Castiel remembered it and just hearing it brought with it a new sense of feeling homesick - or rather the longing for freedom, perhaps.

»It's been two years.« Castiel was quick to reply and, of course, Gabriel laughed at his reply as he had expected. Gabriel hardly ever took anything seriously, especially not Castiel or the situation his little brother was in.

»No, Cassie! That can't be!« He chuckled at the sight of his little brother sitting on the other side of that glass in his ugly orange overalls. »It's not two years since I last visited you!«

»It's been two years and thirty-six days.« Castiel corrected himself and noticed how Gabriel broke eye contact with him, even if it was just for a second. Was this a sign of his brother feeling guilty for letting him rot inside this prison for such a long time without visiting him? Gabriel was not the type to feel guilty. Yet, his brother scratched his neck in a sign of obvious discomfort as the realization that Castiel was right seemed to fully hit home.

»Well … A lot happened … You know how it is.« Castiel wanted to reply something that would show Gabriel his disdain and yet, Castiel couldn't bring himself to do just that - not with so many possible witnesses around. So he just nodded although he wanted to say that no, he didn't know how one could forget to visit their own brother in prison for two years.

»Why are you here, Gabriel?« He found himself sighing and Gabriel, with a smirk leaned forward on the small desk in front of him as if, like this, their conversation might become a little more private.

»Always cutting straight to the chase, Cassie. You didn't change one bit. Can't I just come visit my brother though?«

»If you wanted to see me so urgently, you wouldn't have waited two years.«

»That's what Michael always liked about you, you know?« Gabriel hummed and Castiel couldn't help but feel as though there was a warning behind Gabriel’s words as he dropped their older brother’s name on him like a bomb. They both knew perfectly well just how much Michael hated his youngest brother. »You don't like to waste your time with bullshit. You are still the efficient little bee he always saw in you. Unlike Balthy, of course.«

He couldn't deny how his blood ran cold at his brother’s words but he could at least try to act unfazed by all of this because that was what was expected of him. He had grown up knowing what was expected of him. He had grown up with the knowledge that he would have blood on his hands in the future. He would have never thought that it would be the blood of his older brother, though. Of a brother who had always tried to make him laugh against all odds even in his darkest of times, even through the most horrible days of their lives. He couldn't help but think about his cellmate Dean again and was aware that his thoughts tended to wander too often to him lately. Still, a man who had killed to keep his brother save - Castiel could not help but wonder if his own brothers would ever do the same for him too. Then again, he knew that his brothers had killed for him already … but had it been to keep him safe or out of revenge or to prove a point or just for the sake of killing?

»What do you want, Gabriel?« He asked yet again and was still eager not to enrage his own brother. He knew what power his family had even in here and he would not make the mistake of underestimating their rage.

»People are still asking questions, Cassie.« Gabriel replied finally and his voice had dropped significantly a few octaves as he did, growing low and barely above a whisper while his face had turned into the stoic mask of importance that was all too rare with Gabriel. »You know about what and you know that Michael doesn't like people asking questions.«

»What am I supposed to do? It's not like I would give those people any ideas, right? I’m just sitting here and keep my mouth shut as I was told to do, so why don't you bother them instead? Surely Michael knows that it's not my fault.« Of course, Michael knew that it was not Castiel’s doing that prompted those mysterious people to ask questions about their family or Balthazar’s death. It didn't help that Balthazar had been always in the eye of the high society and the media. The interest in his death was now as big as ever and people started to get restless again. They were not satisfied with the answers they had gotten. Balthazar’s fans were not satisfied with the claim that their idol died at the hands of his younger brother after some fight between them. They were not satisfied with the claim that it had been a mere ugly accident.

»You know Michael just as well as I, Cassie. I came here to warn you, little brother. You can't give him even the inkling of an idea that you are talking to anyone.« Gabriel’s brown eyes were drilling holes right into his very soul and almost prompted him to look away. He knew, of course, that looking away was not an option. Their father, though loving, had made this unmistakably clear before his death and Michael had always been just as adamant to enforce this into his younger siblings.

»Why do you care?« He didn't even know what prompted him to ask something as ridiculous as this. Gabriel didn't really care and they both knew this. In the past, he had often mistaken Gabriel’s kindness for love but after two years being locked up in here, Castiel had been quick to learn that they might be brothers in blood but that this didn't necessarily mean Gabriel loved him as such. Despite everything Michael, Raphael or Lucifer had done in the past, he had always been naive enough to believe they loved him nonetheless. Waking up from this illusion had been painful.

»Listen, Cassie« Gabriel's eyes turned a lot softer as he spoke up again, the hard lines on his face disappearing almost completely as he tilted his head ever so slightly. »I already lost one brother. Do you really think I want to lose another? You know what Mike is like if he smells a rat, right? I don't wish to be called to participate in your funeral. I don't want my little brother to rot behind some prison with a number on his gravestone.«  

»You have a funny way of showing how much you care then, Gabriel.« He scoffed and as Gabriel opened his mouth to speak up again, Castiel was all too quick to cut him right off again. »Tell Michael he has no need to worry. Tell him I am still just an efficient little bee.«

※※※※※※※

Two weeks had gone by not nearly quickly enough for Dean’s liking as he was led into the visitation room for the very first time since he got here. He couldn't deny that he had been glad to hear that someone actually came to see him as the prison guard had called him over while he had been washing the dishes in the kitchen. However, as his initial surprise had worn off, his joy had dissipated too. Of course, he was happy to see someone from his family because who else would come to see him anyway, but then again, he couldn't help but feel nervous of facing any single one of his remaining family. He didn't even know who he hoped to see while a part of him didn't want Adam or Sam to come to such a place to see their fucked-up older brother. It wouldn't be right even if it meant he wouldn't see his brothers for the next fifteen years.

This thought alone made his stomach turn.

The visitation room was a long stretched rectangular room that was separated in the middle through a row of desks and cut through by a glass wall. There was no such thing as privacy as chairs were set up side by side on each side of the glass wall, barely wide enough apart to squeeze between two chairs to take a seat. It was noisy and the room already loaded with people talking via phone through the thick security glass to their visitors, their orange jumpers the only source of color in their grey world. Everything about this jail was sucking the life right out of everyone inside and Dean couldn't help but draw the comparison to the book Momo from German author Michael Ende that he had once read in elementary school. Everything here was gray and dull and without life.

As Dean first entered the room he paused to take it all in and let his eyes wander over his fellow inmates and their visitors first. To his surprise, he found Castiel not too far away from the door, talking to another man with rich brown hair and a cocky little smirk on his face. Only a nudge from the guard who led him in here prompted him to walk again. That this was not the place for any kind of funny business was made unmistakably clear to him by the way he was led to one of the very few free chairs over on the left side of the room. Had he hoped to be able to listen in to Castiel’s conversation, were his dreams crushed now as he was led quite far away from his cellmate.

As he reached the chair destined for him, his heart dropped a little as he was faced with the one and only Bobby Singer, looking up at him with his deep blue eyes like a lighthouse in a stormy sea. Dean was almost certain that he saw the glimmer of tears in them as he quickly sat down and grabbed the phone of his side, his gesture mirrored by Bobby’s in its eagerness. He couldn't deny, despite his joy to see the man, that he felt horribly unsure what to say and that the guilt was weighing him down quite heavily. Bobby shouldn't be here. No one of his family should be in need to come to a facility like this because of him. And yet, as Bobby’s voice sounded through the telephone, Dean felt a sense of relief wash over him. »Heya Dean.« His voice sounded raspy. »How are you, Son?«

»Peachy.« Dean shrugged and leaned forward and closer to the glass, resting his weight on his left arm in the process. »How about you? How about the others? Tell me everything, alright? Is Adam doing okay in school? What about his essay? Did he get a good grade on that? What's with Sammy? Is he still in rehab? Is he doing okay there? I hope Adam doesn't put too much stress on Kate. She’s already got enough on her plate.«

Bobby managed a smile at his words and shook his head ever so slightly. »You never fail to amaze me, my boy.« The old mechanic chuckled softly while Dean could only raise his eyebrows in confusion.

»What do you mean?«

»I mean, though you sit behind bars in such a dangerous environment for someone like you, you still only worry about your family and if Adam did okay on that stupid little essay. By the way, yes, he did. He got an A. Sam helped him as best he could before he started his rehab.« It was evident that Bobby couldn't be any prouder, yet to Dean it was an enigma what he was so proud of when looking at Dean. He, however, felt a certain sense of pride knowing that his baby brother did okay on that essay even without him. Although, what help would he have been anyway? Sam was the smart one, after all.

»So … Adam and Sam are talking to each other again?« All three of them had always been close. Sam and he maybe even more so because they had been together a lot longer before Adam came into their life and yet, there had never been serious radio silence between any of the three of them and yet, after their father's death, after Dean had been collected by the police, Adam had hardly looked at Sam, giving him the fault at everything that happened. Adam wasn't entirely wrong, of course. Had Sam not started drugs, their father might not have had a heart attack because of the shock as he heard of Sammy’s overdose and then Ruby wouldn't have been killed.

»Barely.« Bobby sighed and dragged a hand over his face. »Only when Sam nags him enough. He calls at least twice a week from his rehab facility. I think he misses home quite a lot and he gives himself the fault for everything. I don't think Adam will forgive him, though, no matter how much Sam’s trying.«

»I can understand him.« Dean replied after a moment. It would be a lie, would he claim he wasn't angry at Sam too. He had known about his brother’s problem with drugs before the overdose. He had caught him with Ruby once and raised hell on his brother. He should have known that this was not enough to get Sam off the drugs for good not with someone like Ruby in his life. »But Adam is still so very young, Bobby. He will learn to forgive Sammy. Tell Sam he should give Adam a little more space, okay? We all know how bitchy they both can be, right?«

Again, Bobby laughed a little, but as he leaned forward on the desk like Dean, his expression grew thoughtful again and his eyes even softer than before. »I know how bitchy they can be, Dean.« He smirked. »But that's only when you are not around to give them the much needed balance.«

»They have Katy … and you.«

»We both know that's not the same, Gremlin. Even when your dad was still around, you were the one person who was able to balance all these hot-heads in your house. Because that’s one thing you Winchester all have in common, Dean. You all have an awful temper - but with you around, there never was serious damage done. You were always the one to keep the peace in the house and make sure that everyone gets their fair share of everything. They will continue to struggle without their big brother around to show them the way.« Without wanting to flatter himself, Dean knew that his surrogate uncle was indeed right. They were all incredibly hot-headed and stubborn to no end. His dad could have been quite loud himself, whenever he wanted to, yet somehow they had all gotten along quite well - even through puberty when Dean had hit his bitch phase.

»Well, maybe that's for the better.« He huffed quietly. »I mean, look at me Bobby. Maybe it's better if I’m not there to show them the way because obviously my way led straight to prison.«

»And still you are one of the very few good people in the world, Dean. Everyone makes mistakes in their lives and you are here to repent for what you did like a responsible adult. What better role model could those boys get?« Bobby paused for a second as if there was something he wanted to say but didn't know if he should say it at all. After a moment, he continued and Dean was sure that he had brushed his initial thought off. »Still, everytime I see Adam nowadays, I’m worried that your baby brother loses his way completely without you. Kate is his mother, yes, and she’s still around, but we both know that although he will listen to her to some degree, it's not the same as if you were there. Adam always looked up to you, he always listened to you. His mother will not be able to keep him from struggling, not really.«

»She has to learn that then, Bobby. And Adam and Sammy have to learn to manage without me too for the next fifteen years.« He couldn't deny that thinking about all of this made it harder to put a smile on for Bobby. »But please, Bobby, keep an eye on them for me, okay? Make sure they don't lose their way.« Because the last thing he ever wanted to see was one of his brothers joining him in this hell hole.

As he later came back to his cell smelling like burned grease and onions and in dire need of a shower but not willing to go take one, he found Castiel sitting on the top bunk with a book clasped in his hands, his back leaning against the wall and his legs crossed uncomfortably. »Hey there, Angel.« Dean greeted with a grin that only grew larger as he noticed the surprised gaze Castiel shot him due to this new nickname Dean had come up with. »What'cha reading?«

Castiel paused a second or two before he found the will to answer. »The Shadow over Innsmouth.« Castiel replied calmly. »From H.P. Lovecraft.«

»Really? My lil’ brother Adam loves H.P. Lovecraft!« Dean grinned. »I remember him reading this story when he was a little younger.« Castiel did not seem particularly interested in his story about Adam and so, Dean decided to change topics as he walked over to the sink, pulling off his shirt to throw it onto his bed. If he couldn't get a shower, he could at least have a tinier version of a whore’s bath because he would not get naked with the door wide open and Castiel watching. »I saw you earlier in the visitation room.« He dropped as he grabbed his washcloth and soaked it in the cold water. »Who was with you?«

He expected Castiel to not answer him at all or that he would tell him to mind his own business but he didn't, to his biggest surprise. »My brother.« He replied quietly. »One of my brothers.« He quickly corrected himself and Dean found himself smirking a little. »And you should really take a real shower. This will not get the smell off of you and I don't know if I can stand you smelling like fast food the entire night.«

Dean found himself stiffing a little just at the thought, not knowing how to react without giving himself away. Maybe he should try and be more cocky as he turned around to face Castiel again. »Maybe you should try a shower too for once.« He grinned because Dean clearly wasn't the only one of them who disliked going to the showers. »When was the last time you showered anyway? And don't think I wouldn't smell your stinky feet every night. Come on. If I have to shower, you do too.«

Again, he was certain that Castiel would react a lot more pissed off at him, after everything he had heard about Castiel since he came to this prison and yet again, his cellmate surprised him as he put his bookmark between the pages of his book and closed it. »I assume this is only fair. We are cell mates after all. I can't expect you to look after your hygiene so your smell does not disturb me and expect leniency from your side in this regard.« As Castiel put his book aside and swung his legs over the edge of his bed, his eyebrows rose so high they almost vanished under the mob of tousled thick black hair. »Why are you laughing?«

Dean could hardly sustain his chuckle as Castiel looked at him with such confusion. »You are such an alien.«

Just as they entered the showers, two other guys left and Dean didn't escape how their eyes were roaming over Dean and Cas’ half-naked bodies. At least they had the space to themselves now and could shower in some privacy at least. Castiel seemed just as unconcerned about being naked in front of a stranger as Dean was as they both put their towels away before turning on their showers. Already there was still steam lingering in the air from the other guys that came before them.

»So any good news from your brother?« Dean began talking again as the water was pouring down on his head. He enjoyed this feeling beyond belief but it would have been weird to just shower side by side and not talk. Talking about family seemed a safe bet too, at least as far as he was concerned. Surely, Castiel would not get any funny ideas as long as they would talk about family - because, honestly, who would?

»Not particularly.« Castiel replied and it was obvious to Dean that he didn't really wish to talk about his family at all just now. Maybe it was not wise to infringe any further on that too and yet he couldn't really help himself either. He was a cop, after all, and some things, like the need to always satisfy his curiosity, never went away.

»So, did something bad happen?« He gently pried.

»Gabriel did not bring any news at all.« Castiel cut him off quietly but he didn't seem angry, at least. To Dean, this new name came as a new information, though. He now had an image in his mind when someone would refer to Gabriel Pellegrino, who was, as far as Dean was aware, highly involved in the porn industry. All he knew about Gabriel, until now was that he was portrayed as quite the _bon vivant_ in the media. To the outside world, he seemed like a good guy, then again, that was exactly the point. »He just came to check on me.« That was not at all why his brother came to see Castiel but Dean pretended that he believed him as he hummed his response.

»That was very nice of him.«

»Who visited you? Was this your dad?« So, Castiel had seen him and Bobby too. He hadn't noticed Castiel walking past them during his conversation with Bobby.

»No … My dad died a little while ago. That was my Uncle.« He stopped himself right there. »Well, not really.« He then chuckled. »But we always called him that. He’s my dad’s best friend, helped raising us, pretty much. Came to check on me too, I guess.«

»That was very nice of him.« He couldn't help but smirk as Castiel repeated his words from earlier word for word.

»Yeah … it was. Not gonna lie, I miss them.« Dean sighed as he rinsed the soap out of his hair and saw out of the corner of his eye how Castiel was doing the same thing. »I was never separated from them for so long and it has only been two weeks. I mean … How am I supposed to survive the next fifteen years then?«

»You will manage.« As Dean looked at Castiel, he wanted to ask the other man how long he was here already or how often his family would come visit but before he could, there was noise coming from the front room and he felt himself tensing quite a bit, his encounter with Eldon and his goons still oh so very freshly on his mind. He was not alone this time and yet, he noticed how Castiel too shot a cautious glance back over his right shoulder as a small group of brawny man walked in on them. As far as Dean could tell, they did not belong to Eldon’s goons in any way and yet it was pretty clear that they were not at all better as one of them let out a sharp whistle regarding Dean.

»Hey, Pretty, why don't you come over and suck me off?« One of them, a particularly nasty looking dude with thinning hair and yellow teeth grinned. Almost every inch of his body seemed covered in tattoos and as he dropped his towel Dean decidedly turned away and looked at the tiled wall in front of him instead. »What? Am I not good enough for you, Sweetheart?«

»Sorry, you’re not my type.« Dean snorted. Yes, he needed to keep his guard up, yes, picking fights wouldn't help him at all and yet, he was not willing to let himself get taunted by any of these men who thought they could fuck around with him or calling him dirty names. He still had his pride left and he would defend himself. And, hell, even if someday someone would manage to get him down and overpower him, at least he wouldn't let it happen without a fight.

»Shame, you look exactly like my type, though, Blondie.« The other guy huffed and Dean heard him walk over while his friends, though snickering, already turned to their showers instead. »You look like someone who appreciates my big fat-«

»I’m afraid you are infringing on my territory, Bert.« Castiel's voice was suddenly very sharp as he turned around to look at the man who was approaching Dean while Dean himself did his best not to blow his cover in any way as he was glancing back over his shoulder again. He remained calm and was indeed surprised to see a man like this, big and strong, shoot a nervous glance at Castiel. Not that Castiel would be a tiny little guy by any means and as his blue eyes shot daggers at the man now, Dean could see the hint of the mobster hiding behind those angel wings on Castiel’s back.

»It's not like you to grab yourself a nice piece of ass like this.« Bert replied with a grin as he put his hands on his hips. This was a test. He was putting Castiel’s bluff to the test. For the shortest moment, Dean tried to think of something, but before he could even do anything, there were hands on him dragging him away from his own shower, pushing him against the tiled wall that was now in his back. His first instinct was to fight but as his mind went back into the game, he was confronted with the bluest eyes he had ever seen now mere inches apart and only then he realized Castiel’s plump lips pressing against his, his tongue demanding it's way inside of Dean’s mouth, his left hand on his collarbone, his right on his hips, their bodies flushed together so tightly it was hard to breathe.

For this one brief moment, Dean was overwhelmed by what was happening to him. He could feel everything, as it seemed as if all his senses were just too eager to get it all in, his body just one tight raw nerve lying open for every touch and every sensation.

The moment broke almost as suddenly and quickly as it started and as Castiel stepped away, he left Dean panting and confused over the sudden attack. Although Castiel had removed himself from Dean enough so that he could breathe again, he remained close enough to shoot another warning glare at Bert over his left shoulder. »He’s mine and it would be wise for you to not even do as much as looking into his direction. You know what happened to the last guy who decided to fuck with a Pellegrino.«

Bert turned sickly pale although it was hard to tell through the foggy mist of the shower room. Dean hardly had enough time to gather himself as Castiel handed him his towel, already wrapping his own around his hips after he had turned off his shower. The other man didn't wait for him while Dean was still scrambling with tying the towel around his hips, but he followed after Castiel as quickly as he could while trying his best to act all proud and unconcerned all the while, although his knees were made out of pudding. He was wise enough not to speak of the situation for now - not as long as there would be unwanted witnesses to their conversation.

And yet … What was he going to say anyway?

They got dressed in silence and they walked back to their cell in silence too. Even as they were back inside and Castiel back to reading his book, they remained in silence for a little while longer. He felt silly for wanting to talk about the situation they had been in, after all, it was all too apparent already that Castiel had only done it to keep those guys from harassing Dean further. It was as Castiel had told him before: If he wanted to keep the harassment to a minimum that he was not only facing inside the showers, he needed a man, although he felt uncomfortable that people looked at him and saw a guy who was willing to let himself get fucked by another guy or that they saw a guy they could fuck with.

»You have a pretty face, that's the reason why they think you’re a fuckboy, that's why they are messing with you and try to get you down. You are new here and it’s evident that you’ve never been to prison. Once they have broken you, they can do whatever they like with you. And your ass or your mouth then becomes nothing more than something to trade.« Castiel's voice suddenly sounded from the top bunk after a while had passed. »I learned that it's the human nature to want to dominate others to make yourself feel more powerful - or to break what is considered beautiful, though the reasoning behind all of this, eludes my understanding.«

»How long have you been here already?«

»Five years. Twenty-five more to go.«

»How does it come that … I mean … don't get me wrong but you are not ugly either…«

»You want to know if anyone ever tried to make me his bitch?« Castiel chuckled and the sound was almost a little too out of place to come from his cellmate. »There were a few that tried.«

»And?«

»They’re dead.«

As the lights went out a little while later, Dean listened to the squeaking sounds as Castiel tried to get a little more comfortable on the bed above him. He couldn't help but think about that kiss again as he was lying there in complete darkness. He had had relationships before. He had kissed before. He had had sex before. All of this was in no way new to him, of course, and yet, he had a hard time getting that moment out of his mind. Not just the kiss, that was something he wouldn't have such a hard time to come to terms with. No, it was everything else. The feeling how Castiel, though shorter, had suddenly loomed over him like this dangerous creature no one would ever want to mess with, or how their bodies had pressed together so closely that he had been able to feel every hair on Castiel's smooth skin.

The worst in all of this was that he couldn't deny the rush of excitement shooting through his body as he thought about it, or the heat shooting straight into his groin. With a small huff, Dean turned on his side and grabbed his pillow a little harder than necessary. It didn't quite help that he had always been a very sexual person, he assumed. And it clearly didn't help that Castiel Novak was god damn gorgeous to look at.

****

**-End of Chapter 6-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to tell me what you think in the comments. Feedback is always helpful and appreciated.


	7. Chapter 7

_He remembered the blood. It was everywhere, as he opened his eyes to look around. His entire world was covered in blood and so was the face of his brother as he was swinging down the meat cleaver again and again. The blade was already covered in blood, there was no light reflecting from it as Castiel stared ahead, unable to do something, unable to say something, unable to move. The smell of urine and iron was lingering in the air, of death and fear, making him sick to the stomach. Castiel could feel his body tremble, could feel the tears still pooling down his face. He was cold as he sat on the dirty concrete floor naked like on the day he was born._

_»Stop crying.« A voice addressed him from behind but Castiel's eyes remained fixed on his brother’s face as he severed the man lying on the ground limb by limb. Such glee in his eyes as he did … Castiel was sure he would never forget this expression on Lucifer’s face. »Your crying will not change anything now.«_

_He was unable to stop crying, though, and he didn't know why. All he felt was a paralyzing emptiness inside of him as if something had been ripped straight out of his soul. A slap across his face brought him back to reality as he stared with wide eyes into the vibrating blue ones of Michael, looming over him with no remorse for this act of violence against a child, his black hair a sharp contrast to his pale skin. »Get your shit together, Castiel, and clean up the mess you made.« Michael’s perfectly chiseled face was a mask of pure disgust as he looked down on Castiel before he turned and left, leaving him alone with all the blood and the horrible wet sounds as the meat cleaver was severing the dead man limb by limb still._

_There was a moment when Lucifer’s cold blue eyes met his and the grin on his face grew only larger at the sight of horror on Castiel’s face, then his view of his brother was blocked as a third figure was crouching down in front of him. Castiel was picked up in strong arms, unable to fight the person off that was lifting him into their arms. »Don't cry, Cassie. Everything will be okay.«_

Someone was pulling on his shoulder. First, he was sure he had just imagined it, but as it happened again and this time harder, Castiel finally opened his eyes to face whoever dared touching him. »Cas … Hey, come on, Dude, snap out of it.« He knew the voice and yet his reaction was swift as he shot up and closed his hand tightly around the slim neck of his attacker with a growl. As his fingers started squeezing it took him a moment to realize what he was doing and to hear the wheeze coming from the other man that was now fighting against his ironclad grip. »Cas!« The voice sounded again, weaker this time, fighting for breath. In the darkness of the room, he could hardly see the face of the man, though. Everything was just a blur, even the struggle he was facing before someone managed to land a sharp punch against Castiel’s right jaw. Only then, Castiel was able to loosen the grip on that thin neck.

He could hear his attacker cough, gasping for breath. »What the hell, Man?« Dean. It was Dean. The realization hit him without a warning and his eyes grew wide as he was finally able to make out Dean’s pale face in the darkness of their cell. Of course, it was never truly pitch black inside these cells. There was always light coming from the hallway outside through the window in their door. Dean, as far as he could tell, looked more startled than angry as he was rubbing over his neck. »Jesus, Cas … I just wanted to wake you up!«

»Why?« It took him a moment to even find his voice now and as he did, it was dry and got caught in his throat, making him cough as he found himself grasping his jaw. That punch had startled him more than it had hurt and yet his jaw was not a fan. »Why would you do that?«

»Dude, you were having a nightmare!« Dean huffed and only now he started to realize that he must be standing on the mattress of his own bed, clinging to the ladder that led to Castiel's bed with one hand. »I didn't want you to wake up anyone - or draw the attention from the guards. Jeez … Wouldn't have expected you to have that much strength.« He ended with a smirk, as if he wouldn't take it too personally that Castiel had just choked him and might have killed him even, had Dean not managed to punch him awake.

»I’m sorry.« He managed to grind out even though he shouldn't be apologizing. This was not at all what people would be expecting from him. People would expect him to beat the crap out of Dean instead and maybe he would do just that under different circumstances. Then again … in which way were the circumstances different? He liked Dean. Maybe that was it. Dean Winchester was the first cellmate Castiel had gotten that was bearable to be around although his jokes were bad and he was snoring every now and then. Well, he was a whole lot more good looking than everyone Castiel had shared a cell with before. But that was not why he liked him better than most, if not every person, in this jail. He was a righteous man and in that aspect, he was so very much different than Castiel. Dean had made one mistake that landed him in here and he had been strong enough to accept his punishment, good enough to admit to his crime right away, not fighting to get a lower sentence, sparing the family of his victim from a trial. Castiel, however … the wings on his back betrayed who he really was. He was a criminal, he was a murderer, he had blood on his hands because that was what his family did. His family killed people.

Lucifer’s gleeful grin flashed through his mind once again, his face splattered with the blood of his victim. Killing the man had not been an act of love and Castiel would never make the mistake of thinking that this would be the case. A while ago, when he had been younger, he had thought that Lucifer had killed this man, this monster, because he loved him, because he wanted revenge for his little brother, to make up for not protecting him enough. Growing up, however, he had learned that Lucifer had killed this man because their father had told him to and because he found joy in killing people.

»Hey … Everything alright?« He found Dean’s hand suddenly on his forehead and didn't quite know what to make of it, so he shrugged it off.

»Of course.«

»You look like you’re going to puke, Angel.« Again this nickname. He didn't know what to make of it. was Dean trying to mock him? Until now, he seemed smarter than this, even though he was the first one to not cower in fear of him, as if he wouldn't care or wasn't aware of Castiel’s reputation or that he was part of the Mob. Then again, of course, Dean was aware of that. He had talked to Benny, after all. Still, as his eyes had grown accustomed to the lighting now, he could easily see Dean’s concerned expression, his raised brows and the slight worry in his vibrant green eyes. In his family, almost everyone had blue eyes, except for Gabriel and Raphael. It was refreshing to see something else and oh, weren’t those eyes fitting for a man like Dean?

»It's fine.« Why was he even so concerned with his well-being? Suddenly, however, after Dean had produced a deeply annoyed sigh, he scrambled up the ladder further.

»Scoot over, Sweetheart.«

»What?«

»Scoot over. I need my beauty sleep and I will not get it if you have another nightmare.«

»So?«

»So I’m going to sleep up here. That's what I did when my brothers had nightmares. I was told my presence is very calming.« Castiel was flabbergasted, to say the least by Dean’s decision to sleep in the same bed as he. Apparently, Dean Winchester knew no fear or Castiel had not yet given him a good enough reason to fear him. Somehow, for the first time, this was not as bothering as he thought it would be. What was it about Dean Winchester that Castiel didn't want the other man to fear him?

He had no other choice than scooting over and as Dean scrambled to get onto the mattress next to him. It was a tight fit, of course, but somehow Castiel was not opposed to Dean’s presence next to him. »Just tell me if you need to puke.« For Dean this whole situation of crawling into bed with a stranger, a possibly very dangerous stranger who could easily strangle him in his sleep with not much effort, seemed completely normal as he came to a rest next to him. At least he had grabbed his pillow before coming up here.

»Why are you so concerned?«

»You saved my ass.« Dean sighed as he moved onto his side, his face turned towards Castiel. »In the showers. You could have let this guy have his way with me, you didn't need to say or do anything. But you did. Don't get me wrong, I am not a damsel in distress and I can take care of myself too, but I understand how dangerous it is for someone like me. I’m not too thrilled that people think now that you fuck me, but I rather have them think that and stop harassing me then become the victim of a group of guys.«

»Very wise.« Castiel replied quietly. »Although, I didn't think that it would end like this when I told you to get a man.«

»Well, sorry, but now you’re stuck with me.« Dean chuckled. »Though I am not going to suck your dick.«

»I won’t force you to.« This promise was the most Dean would ever get in this place and although Castiel was aware that Dean could take care of himself and that he was by no means a weakling in any sense of the word, a part of him was glad that everything had happened like it did. Dean was right, his presence was very calming.

※※※※※※※

 _The lake was glistening a dark blue in the light of the early afternoon sun. There was not a single cloud to be seen on an azure blue sky. »Come on, Tiger!« John Winchester tried coaxing his oldest son into the water yet again. He was standing in the shallow water of the peaceful little lake._ Mary’s Lake _was surrounded by lush trees and rich meadows, perfect for a little trip on a Sunday with his kids, perfect to try and forget all the bad stuff that had happened throughout the week._

_Dean Winchester, however, had his reservations as he looked at his father and his desperate attempts at getting Dean to join him in the shallow water that not even reached his father's knees. Then again, his father was huge like a bear to Dean with his five years of age. He couldn't help but throw a glance back over his shoulder to where their picnic blanket was lying on the grass. His baby brother Sammy was lying on his stomach, clutching the blanket in his attempts of robbing forwards a little only to be captured by Bobby Singer when he was getting too far away. »What about Sammy? We shouldn't leave him, Daddy!« Dean replied to his father. He had lost his voice after his mother's death for quite some time and being here at the lake they used to visit with her, felt unreal and as if something very important was missing._

_»Bobby looks after him, Dean. Come on now, you wanted to learn how to swim, right? You're a big boy, after all.« His father tried again and Dean suddenly felt very conflicted because his father was right, he was a big boy. He was five years old and, more importantly, he was a big brother and thus a role model for Sammy. And, yes, he had told his father that he wanted to learn how to swim because everyone else in preschool already knew how to swim. He needed to know how to do that so that he would be able to show Sammy when the time came. He had to look after his baby brother, after all. »Well?«_

_Slowly, Dean made a move forward and towards his father but he was still hesitant to really go into the water. He had been in there before, playing in the shallow water with his parents and yet, it was different now and he couldn't even tell why, only that the lake that he used to love so much, was now quite frightening to him. It looked so dark and deep - impossible to say what was lurking beneath the water._

_»I don't think that’s a good idea, Daddy…« Dean mumbled quietly and the expression on his father’s face turned from a smile to annoyance in a matter of seconds. That happened a lot lately, actually, but mostly when his father had downed a bottle of beer. Before his mother had died, this had been a whole lot different, even the beer-thing. When his father would get annoyed, it usually was only a short moment before he would start yelling._

_»Dean, come on now. We drove out here extra because you whined about wanting to learn how to swim, so get in here already!« He was not yelling, yet, but Dean flinched anyway and couldn't quite help the hiccup leaving his throat at that. He didn't like it when his father would raise his voice and he didn't like being here without his mom. He was scared without her watching over him from the picnic blanket. Ever since his mother died, he always felt afraid of almost everything and yet he knew that he couldn't act like it. He had to be strong for his little brother, after all. He could not leave Sammy hanging like this. Not when he needed his big brother the most, it just wouldn't be right and he knew that he had to be strong now too, yet, he didn't find it in himself to move until his father walked up to him to scoop him up. Only then Dean started to trash around like a fish that was taken out of the water, ironically enough._

_»No, Daddy!« Dean found himself screaming at the top of his lungs as his father wanted to lower him into the water._

_»What the heck is your deal today, Dean?« His father frowned as he tried desperately to contain his flailing child, to no avail and Dean could feel how frustrated he was getting already._

_»I want Mommy!« Dean sobbed. »I don't want in the water! I want back to Sammy!« Bobby’s presence at the picnic blanket was already forgotten to Dean in this moment as he openly started to cry._

_»Come on, Tiger, whats wrong?« His father sighed heavily. »It's not the first time we’re here. Don't tell me you’re suddenly afraid of the water!«_

_»Am not!«_

_»What's the deal then, you little trouble? Can't get wet anymore without turning into a little rage monster?« His father stepped into the most shallow part of the lake so that his feet were hardly covered by the water only to sit down cross-legged, putting Dean into his lap in an attempt to console his boy, knowing fully well that Dean tended to feel a lot calmer resting against his father's broad chest, safer, one might say. »Deano … You know Mommy isn't coming back, right? You know Mommy is an angel now and keeps watch over us, right?« His father's eyes were full of sorrow as he looked down at Dean, meeting his green eyes, as Dean was still trying to suppress his hiccups as he nodded. »And we both know that it's not because Mommy isn't here that you are throwing a tantrum like a three-year-old now, do we?« Again, Dean found himself nodding as he leaned in closer with a frustrated sigh. »Tell me then, Buddy, what's wrong? You used to love to play here in the water.«_

_»I’m afraid of the monsters.« Dean finally breathed out with large eyes. »I don't want them to eat me.«_

_»What monsters?«_

_»Jake told me there are monsters in the lake! And that they drag kids underwater to eat them! I don't want to be eaten! I have to be there for Sammy!« For a moment, his father looked at him flabbergasted by his sudden outburst, but then a chuckle left his mouth and before Dean knew it, his father pulled him even closer against his chest, closing his strong arms around him as tightly as he could without actually squeezing him. They weren't hugging as often as they used to these days, not since his mother died. His father was always so occupied with work and Sammy. He always seemed so stressed out and angry at everything. Before his mother’s death, Dean had used every excuse in the book to be close to his father and to snuggle up on him when he least expected it. He had missed being so close to his father, he had missed being hugged or carried around by his father. He had missed feeling so safe as he did now because as long as his father would put his arms around him, no monster would ever be able to get him - not even the one that was living in his closet._

_»Got it.« His father smirked and Dean couldn't quite tell what he found so funny about all of this. »Deano, you know that there are no monsters, right?«_

_»But Jake said-«_

_»Well, maybe Jake doesn't know, like I do. But I went swimming in this lake all my life - even as a child - and I promise you, Tiger, that there are no monsters in the water, only a few fishies.«_

_»Pinky promise?« Dean asked as he wiped the tears from his cheeks. Why would his father lie to him about something as serious as monsters and yet, Dean needed this last bit of reassurance. His father, knowing this, held out his pinky finger for Dean to hook his own with his._

_»Pinky promise.« He smiled and pressed a kiss to Dean’s messy mop of blonde hair. »So, are we going to learn how to swim today or what?«_

As Dean woke up this morning when the doors were unlocked, he felt strangely rested and his mind was still clinging to the dream he had. This was the first good dream he had ever since the day he had found Sammy in his own mess in his bathroom. Strange. A moan left his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut against the bright light that had been turned on inside the cell and he felt a shift, movement, on the bed next to him. Only then he remembered what had transpired last night. He had really slept in Castiel’s bed. The situation was, of course, beyond awkward. After all, they were both grown man and pretty much strangers despite sharing a cell for a little over two weeks now. And yet, Castiel had helped him yesterday. Dean knew, if he wanted answers, if he wanted to get out of here sooner, if he wanted to work with the FBI, he needed to get closer to Castiel, he needed to gain his trust.

But did that mean he had to become another man’s bitch?

On the other hand, Castiel did not seem that interested in intimate relations with Dean or anyone else for that matter. If he would be interested in it, he could have easily overpowered him last night and Dean would not pretend that this wouldn't be true. Castiel had choked him with one hand and no real effort and hadn't he thrown a punch, he could have killed him. Castiel, though a titbit smaller than Dean, was damn strong and he was not stupid enough to underestimate his weird cellmate. Not after yesterday, not after last night.

»Morning Sweetheart.« Dean groaned and as he opened his eyes he found Castiel staring straight back at him, their faces only inches apart from each other and way too close for comfort so that Dean found himself flinching back almost immediately in surprise. Castiel did not seem bothered by his sudden movement or the fact that they were so close at all. Then again, one thing Dean had learned about his roommate was that Castiel had no concept of personal space anyway. He was often just too close, always blankly staring at him like he did now - almost a little like a cat.

»Good Morning.« Castiel replied and sat up slowly on his bed, which Dean took as his cue to get out of the bed altogether. Castiel was always quick to leave the cell in the morning and Dean didn't want to be in his way, not when he was starting to really befriend him, as it seemed.

»Hey, listen, Cas.« Dean started after he climbed down from Castiel’s bed and sat down awkwardly on his own again. »I’m hitting the gym after my shift in the kitchen, with Benny. You wanna join? I couldn't help but notice that you seem to work out, so why not do it together?« That sounded even more gay than he had anticipated as Dean now realized looking at Cas because his words made it very clear that he had checked him out yesterday in the showers to notice how well-toned his muscles seemed. »I mean … you’re a strong dude, right?«

The way Castiel stared at him now that he had gotten down from his bed too told Dean nothing at all. How was it possible that a man’s expression was that unreadable? It was insane! His stare was as blank as it always was and there was not even a hint of what this man might be thinking at all. »That is a very friendly offer.« Castiel finally replied after an almost uncomfortably long pause.

»So?« Dean grinned, thankful that Castiel did not seem to think that he was hitting on him.

»I’ll think about that.«

On this day, Castiel did not join him and Benny inside the gym. However, it was the first time since Dean had been committed to this jail, that he was not outright harassed as he had entered the gym with Benny. Instead, the entire day, no matter where he went, guys were whispering quietly when he walked by, shooting him glances that could only be described as awestruck. It was odd and it as almost humiliating. The news that he was Castiel’s bitch had already spread, as it seemed, and Dean felt as if he had been branded.

»You hit the jackpot.« Benny grinned down at him as he kept watch over Dean while he was lying on the bench press, pressing the barbell over his head with Benny as backup. From his position he stared blankly at the ceiling for the most part, now however, as he pushed the barbell on it's handles with Benny’s help, he couldn't help but look at him in confusion, sweat dripping down his forehead. Working out regularly now made him feel a lot better and was a very much welcome change to his daily routine inside this prison.

»What do you mean?«

»Castiel.« Benny grinned. »You hooked up with Castiel.« Somehow he wasn't even offended the way Benny spat this out. Out of Benny's mouth, it sounded like a very honest compliment, almost as if Benny was complimenting him for getting it off with someone like Angelina Jolie or something. Dean found himself pressing his lips into a thin line. If he would deny it, it would only hurt him in the long run. As long as everyone thought that he was fucking Castiel, they would leave him alone for the most part.

»That's not something I’m particularly proud of, Benny.« He replied after he took a deep breath and lifted his shirt to wipe off the sweat from his forehead. »I’m not even gay.«

»So what? That's prison. We are all men and we all have our needs. Nothing wrong with fucking another guy to tend to your needs, Dean. Not in here, at least.« Benny smirked. »A man needs to do what a man needs to do and at least no one will ever dare to harass you now, not with Castiel Pellegrino as your husband.«

His _husband_ … Oh, how very weird and wrong that sounded. »You know … he doesn't even seem that dangerous to me.«

»That's because you never saw him angry. Castiel is a calm dude for the most part, polite too and that is what leads people to misjudge him. Don't ever forget who he is, Dean. Castiel is not just some average dude who did something wrong, okay? He’s part of the mob, he killed someone - and probably not just that one person - he and his family are exactly those people you don’t want to mess with.«

»Is it true that he killed his former cellmates?« Dean quietly enquired and for the first time he noticed how Benny stiffened just a little.

»Well, it's not like there is evidence of that.« He shrugged. »No one could ever proof that he did it. But … Yeah. It was a bloodbath. Before you came, Castiel had three other cellmates and all of them were stupid enough to try and fuck with him in some way or another. They regretted that decision quite quickly, though. Especially the first one. Jeez … His name was Lance, I believe. Horrible fella. Nobody knows exactly what happened, but rumor has it he either tried to or did rape Castiel. Needless to say he ended up dead in the laundry room - stuffed in one of the large industrial dryers. Believe me, that was nasty.«

He tried not to imagine what Benny described to him, but unfortunately, his imagination was often quite hyperactive and that was not always a good thing - especially not in that regard and especially not after his time as a cop. He had seen numerous corpses during his career, of course, but thankfully never something as horrible as Benny had described to him.

»Jeez man … If anyone would do that to me, I would shove them into an industrial dryer too.« He scoffed. »Maybe even worse.« And though he knew this about Castiel now, he still couldn't imagine him doing something like that. Maybe he was naive. This was prison and Castiel was no innocent man, nor an angel. Still, he liked him and he tended to defend those he liked - and their actions, no matter how bad they were.

»Still … Not everyone will leave you alone, I’m afraid.« Benny scoffed and as Dean looked at him again, he nodded towards the door and as Dean followed his gaze, he saw Eldon and his goons walk in. Hallelujah. »Eldon seems even more pissed than usual.«

He was right. Dean would be stupid to say anything else and he grew aware that he should better try and keep his distance to Eldon even more than normal. As their eyes met briefly, Dean couldn't help but recognize just how royally pissed Eldon Styne looked at him, his mouth a thin line and his icy blue eyes staring daggers into his direction. Oh, this wasn’t over with and they both knew it. Yet, Dean shot him a cocky little smirk, that hopefully told him just how amusing Dean found the entire situation. If the situation wouldn't be so dangerous, Eldon would be nothing more than a toddler who had his favorite toy taken away from him or told no by his parents - which his parents had obviously never done. Only that Dean was this toy he wanted kept him in a state of uneasiness because when Eldon would be done playing with him, he would be wrecked and possibly very dead - at least when Eldon would learn about Dean’s involvement in his brother’s case.

Maybe Dean was a little too smug, though, because Eldon, after a moment of hesitation, couldn't help but shoot a snarky little remark right at him. »Well, would you look at that.« Eldon smirked. »It's the Pellegrino whore. Working out to look good for your husband?«

»You jealous?« Dean huffed and grew increasingly more aware of the looks that were shot at them now from all across the gym. Apparently, the guys around were waiting for a fight between them. He could feel the excitement radiating from them. »You seem not able to handle rejection all too well, is that right?«

»Aren't you smug all of the sudden.« Eldon grinned. »Only took you getting fucked by a guy to become so tough. Who would have thought? Cassie isn't here to protect you now, though.«

»I don't need someone to protect me.«

»Looked different when I had you on the ground the other day? Remember?« Eldon smirked and took a look around. »And would you look at that! Gadreel isn't here to protect you now either. Tell me, are you sucking his cock too? How does it work? Cassie fucks you while you suck Gadreel off or is it the other way around?«

As Dean rose from the bench he noticed how the air grew more tense around him. An inner voice told him he should just ignore Eldon and do his thing, but Dean wouldn't be Dean if he would listen to that voice of reason inside his head. It was not wise to listen to the voices in one’s own head, after all. Bad enough that all those guys thought he was spreading his legs like a wanton little whore for Castiel, that he was another man’s bitch because he couldn't protect himself. Worse, however, would only be if he would prove them right in not fighting for himself and letting Eldon taunt him like that. He still had his pride and that pride was god damn powerful. His father had taught him always to stand his ground, after all, and that he would.

He stepped up to Eldon without thinking about it and only stopped when they were mere inches apart. He was not willing to back off this time for sure even if it was just to prove a point - and that point was that he didn't need anyone to protect him for certain. He was his own man and he was trained to fight and Eldon did not yet know what was coming for him.

»You know, for someone who says he isn't jealous, you think about this quite a lot, actually. What do you care who fucks me and how? What if I’m getting it on with both of them? It's not like it's any of your goddamn business after all.« He smirked and a part of him still couldn't quite believe that he was in prison, arguing with another guy who got to fuck him or not. That was, for sure, the most surreal experience of his life and he couldn't quite find the comedy in it either. Eldon was a man with a hot temper and Dean could already see the vein pulsating on his forehead as he still seemed to try and hold back. His fists were clenched tightly, his back as tense as it got. »I mean … Look at you, Eldon. You and your little group of nazi-fags … You probably couldn't get it up anyway. Guys like you make a big fuss about themselves to compensate for something.« Dean then smirked as he threw a pointed look at Eldon’s crotch.

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back and Dean hadn’t been quite prepared for the hard left hook that Eldon shot at him next. The moment Eldon’s fist collided with his nose to break it, was the exact same moment, Dean saw Castiel enter the gym and in a matter of not even a full second, he could see his face turn from utter confusion to raging anger.

 

**-End of Chapter 7-**


	8. Chapter 8

**Valley Hope of Atchison, Kansas**

»I tell you, Sammy-boy, that was one sick party!« Meg’s laughter filled the entire room as she threw her head back with not a care in the world for how she might look. She was different from most women in this regard. Most women that Sam knew would hide their laughter behind their hands. Meg was unconventional in more than one way, though. »I was high for three days straight!«

However, though she laughed, Sam was able to see right through it. It was, in the end, all just a facade she was putting up. The carefree party girl. »So … Meg … Is your sister coming to visit next Saturday?«

»Wow! If you want the good mood ruined, just ask Sam Winchester!« Meg chuckled. »What about you, Sammy-boy? Is someone of your family coming?« He should have expected that his question would backfire on him like that. Meg was not the type to let herself get cornered.

»I don't know.«

»Sam Winchester, you know, I admit that you are a pretty cool dude but it's not easy to get to know you, Baby! You do have a family, right? Siblings? Parents? Or were you birthed by some alien creature or send down from Heaven by the almighty himself?«

He couldn't help but roll his eyes at this. »I do actually have a family and it is quite possible that they will come to visit me next Saturday, but I have not heard from them yet.«

Sam was not too keen on the idea of talking about his family to Meg or to anyone, for that matter. It wasn't that he would be ashamed of them in any way. Quite the contrary, actually. They should be ashamed of him and that was the point in all his despair. He had wanted to make them all proud for such a long time and now … now he was the disappointment of his family in every way imaginable. At least they had the living room completely to themselves at this time of day. Most of the other patients were working on their projects or visiting their group sessions now.

The living room was a friendly place to be with a big TV on the far wall that was rarely used during the day and a bunch of soft armchairs and couches. Once a week, Sonny would invite all his patients to a movie night with popcorn and ice cream in this room. Until now, Sam had stayed away from it, though. He was much happier brooding alone in his room.

»Hm … I'm just asking because nobody came for you at the last few visitation days.« He could feel her sharp blue eyes resting on his face as she spoke up again. Meg had sprawled herself out over one of the couches like a cat, some stupid old gossip magazine resting on her flat stomach.

»Because I asked them not to. I wanted a bit more time to get better before seeing them again.«

»So, are you going to tell me about your family freely or do I have to beat it out of you?«

With a sigh, he leaned back into the soft cushions of the sofa. Apparently, Sam Winchester’s life was much more interesting than the latest celebrity break-up story and thus he knew that Meg would not leave him be without first prying one or two answers out of him. »I have two brothers if that's what you want to know oh so desperately.«

»Older or younger?«

»Both.«

»Ah, that explains everything! The typical troubled middle child. No wonder you went off the rails and became a disappointment for your entire family.« although that was exactly what he had thought earlier, it hurt hearing it out of someone else's mouth. Sam, however, did his best not to show how he felt.

»Yeah, something like this.« He smirked.

»So any chance to meet your brothers?«

»I can't tell. Adam … my younger brother, is only sixteen and I'd rather not have him visit such a place, you know?«

»And your older brother?«

»No … Dean is not going to come.«

»Why? Is he the asshole brother who dislikes you? Should I beat him up for you?«

»Dean is awesome.« Sam sighed, immediately urged to defend his big brother like he used to do in the past, everytime someone in his class would throw some nasty comment about Dean his way. As a child and a teenager, Sam had sometimes forgotten that his brother didn't need his defence. »But he's not going to come. He would if he had the chance. Dean is the best brother one could ever hope for. Maybe Kate will come, or Bobby.«

»Who are they?«

»Kate is Adam’s mom … my almost-step-mom so to say and Bobby was my dad’s best friend, helped raising us when Dad was alone.«

»What about your parents?«

»Dead.«

»I’m sorry to hear that, Sammy.« At least she sounded honest, although Sam still had a hard time grasping if she was truthful or not with the things she would tell him. It was hard to look through the mask of coolness she was always wearing. There never was an honest emotion flickering over her face, or at least that was how it seemed to Sam, most of the times. »When … I mean … did they die recently, or….?«  

»My mom died when I was an infant.« Sam shrugged. »My dad … He died in August.« He continued after a moment of hesitation.

»Oh … That's very recently.«

»It is.«

»I’m sorry, Sam. Was he sick or was it an accident?« He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to remember it.

»Yeah … Accident … Quite the shock.« He mumbled as he rose from his spot on the sofa and ruffled a hand through his shaggy hair. »Listen, Meg, I told Sonny I would help him with the firewood again.«

»No, it's okay.« She smiled. »Do your thing.« She could probably tell that he was trying to escape the situation, judging by the expression on her face but Sam only tried a little smile and failed before he hastily turned and left the living room. Still, as he left Meg behind and hurried down the hallway to find the nearest exit, he already knew that it would be impossible to escape his demons. He could see them creeping behind the next corner, waiting for him to make a wrong move, snickering behind his back and it was so hard to breathe as he felt panic rising in his mind and body. As he found the nearest door that led outside, he hastily opened it and stepped into freedom only to clutch one of the wooden columns of the back porch in a desperate search for stability. Back home this would have been the moment were he would have called Ruby over to give him a shot and the first time since his detox, he could feel it in his bones how much he needed the drug really. Ever since he came here, he felt as if he would die without it, as if he really needed the drug to function.

Yet, as he saw Sonny in the distance gathering the firewood, Sam was quick to straighten his back and shake off these thoughts. He couldn't get lost in these kinds of emotions. He couldn't let himself get swept away by these needs - not when he could still see his father’s peaceful face as he had been resting in his coffin every time he closed his eyes, reminding him of what he had done.

※※※※※※※

**Lawrence, Kansas**

The way back home from school was like walking through quicksand. He wasn't in a hurry to get home knowing that his mother would be there waiting for him. It would be much easier would she not be there but at the hospital. She would ask about his bloody lip and nose for certain and Adam was not willing to talk about how he looked or why his backpack was torn and dirty. He didn't want his mother to go after his bullies. He didn't want his mother to console him. He didn't want his mother to make a fuss about all of this. He would deal with all of this himself and he didn't need an overprotective mother for any of that either.

His mom just never knew when to stop. She was like a lioness when someone hurt one of her boys and that included Dean and Sam, of course. Had Ruby not been killed … She would have probably done something to her for getting Sam involved with drugs and for everything else that had happened as a result of that.

The air around him felt particularly cold as October was slowly dying and for once he was not even looking forward to Halloween for the first time ever in his life, while he was still clinging to the memories of his childhood.

These days he was dreaming quite often about his childhood and how he would have spent Halloween with his big brothers. Sure enough, their father had went trick or treating with them every year until Dean was a full-blown teenager and found it was embarrassing for him to go trick or treating with his brothers, let alone with his old man. Instead of allowing his oldest son to go out partying with his friends, however, his father had stayed home and Dean had taken his brothers around the neighborhood - which was not what he had wanted to do, of course, but this had been their father's way of showing his oldest son what embarrassing really meant. Still, despite Dean’s bitching and moaning, Adam remembered how much fun it always was.

For the first time in his sixteen years long life, it struck Adam that the days of his childhood were truly over now. Would Dean be here and bear witness to these thoughts, he would probably claim that this was just puberty striking and maybe he was right. He was sixteen years old and sometimes at this age, the world just seemed so much bleaker than ever before but until now, Adam never had any real reason to feel the way he did nowadays.  Maybe that was normal too and yet, he couldn't help but feel like his childhood had finally ended very abruptly and without a warning on the day his father had died.

As he walked down the street he was living on with his mother, walking past boring suburban houses, he noticed the exaggerated Halloween decorations on the front lawns. His dad had been the king of Halloween decoration in their neighborhood. Somehow his father had always had a love for horror and monsters and Halloween had been _his_ holiday. It felt odd not having him around now. It felt odd knowing that his father wouldn't be there waiting for his sons with horror movies and snacks when Halloween would roll around. His legs felt heavier and heavier the closer he got to his mother's house at the end of the street. It didn't feel like home. He knew his mother was trying her best and yet it just didn't feel like home to him.

It just wasn't. It wasn't the house he had grown up in. It wasn't the place where he had made all his memories. It wasn't the place where he had grown into the person he was now. It just wasn't home despite just how much his mother tried to make it his home. There was no way she would ever succeed - and maybe that was on him. Maybe he was the reason why she wouldn't be able to succeed in this quest. Maybe he was the one thing standing in the way in this regard. Maybe he was the one who needed to change and at least try to make this work. Yet everything just seemed so gloomy and hopeless ever since his dad had died and even more so since Dean wasn't there anymore. And Sammy. Despite the fact just how angry he was with Sammy … He missed his big brother. He missed both of them so damn much.

There was a truck parked in front of their house and Adam couldn't deny that he felt his heart drop a little as he recognized the vehicle right away. _Singer’s Salvage Yard_ was painted all over the side of the car and had this usually prompted Adam to quicken his step to hurry home and greet Bobby, now it only made him pause again. Seeing Bobby had always been something he had been looking forward to when his dad had needed to work overtime or been busy with other adult responsibilities. He was part of their family, just as his wife was. But now, every time he looked at him, he felt guilty for some reason.

Still, he couldn't just stand around like this forever, could he? He could not wait out here or go somewhere else just to avoid meeting Bobby. Since when was he that much of a coward anyway? With that thought, he finally straightened his back and started walking again towards the house although his heart felt heavy as he did just that.

As he opened the front door a few moments later, he could already hear his mom and Bobby talking from the living room. He was silent as he closed the door behind him. He didn't quite know why he was careful not to make a sound just now, but a part of him wanted to hear what they had to say without intruding.

»He’s worried sick, that stupid child.« He heard Bobby sighing and his heart became even heavier than before. He didn't intend on eavesdropping and yet, Adam sneaked closer, not willing to give himself away to the adults yet. It was hard to shake off the feeling of being a creeper while doing so, though. »Mostly if his brothers are doing okay, of course. He asked if Adam did okay on his essay and how Sam was faring at the rehab.«

»This boy always worries too much about those around him. He should worry more about his own safety.« His mother replied in a soft sigh. Though she wasn’t Dean or Sam’s mother, she had always loved them just the same as if they were her sons. And Dean … Dean had always been the rock in a stormy sea, not only to Kate. He had been the one comforting her as she and their father had been fighting and inevitably broken up. Adam, of course, had just been an infant at this time, but Sam once told him about it.

»Told him that.« Bobby huffed before a small chuckle escaped him. »But that's just our Dean, right? Don’t worry too much, about him. That boy is strong and he’s going to do okay. Are you going to see Sam this Saturday?« Now, what was this all about?

»That's what I wanted to talk with Adam about when he gets back from school. The invitation arrived on Monday, but I couldn't bring myself to ask him yet. I mean, I would like to go and visit Sam, give him the support he needs to truly get better, but I don't want to do this without Adam.« Another sigh from Bobby made Adam’s stomach churn.

»I understand.« He understood what? That Adam didn't want to see Sam? That Adam was being a difficult teenager? Could no one understand the anger he was directing towards his big brother? Could they not see how justified Adam was in his anger? No, they just saw a moody teenager being angry with his older brother and an older brother who made a severe mistake in starting drugs. They didn't see Sam the way he did. They didn't see how much he had messed up. They didn't see just how much Sam had destroyed.

Slowly Adam walked back to the door and opened it and although it was his initial intention of fleeing the house again because he just didn't want to talk to Bobby or his mom, the moment he could hear movement in the living room, he closed the door a little heavier again. He was not a coward because his brother had not raised him to be a coward. Right as he turned around again and put his bag away to hang his jacket on the coat rag, acting as though he had just come home, it was Bobby who emerged from the living room and not his mother, much to Adam’s surprise.

»Adam.« He greeted him with a smile. »Good to see you, Son.« As Bobby opened his arms in an invitation of a hug, Adam found himself hesitating but before Bobby could drop his arms or be disappointed by him, he stepped forward to return the hug. Until now, he hadn't thought about it, but as Bobby pulled him into one of his bear hugs and pressed him tightly against his broad chest, he realized just how much he had missed him and his hugs. As a child, Bobby’s hugs had always made everything better as if nothing bad could ever happen to him with Bobby around - or Dean.

»Good to see you too, Bobby.« He breathed and remained just a moment longer pressed against Bobby before he finally let go of the other man again. He couldn't help it. Bobby was like a rock in a stormy sea and Dean clearly got that from him because their father had mostly lost his mind when things started to turn ugly. Dean was the one who had always made sure that they were stacked up on food and batteries and medicine and all the little necessities his father liked to forget about. When everything had fallen apart, Bobby was still there for him. »How is Dean?« He quietly asked. Of course, he knew that Bobby had gone to visit his big brother the other day. A part of him had wanted to go too but then again, he wouldn't be able to look his brother in the eye even. He felt guilty that he didn't go and he would have felt guilty looking Dean in the eyes too. He just couldn't do anything right as it seemed.  

»He’s holding up okay.« Bobby smiled, resting his large right hand on Adam’s shoulder. »He’s fitting right in there. You know your brother. Dean will be alright.« They both knew this was a lie but Adam was not in the mood to call Bobby out on this lie.

»Yeah … I guess you’re right.« Adam mumbled quietly but it was Bobby who quickly changed the subject as he gently grabbed his chin and turned his face a little more towards the light from the ceiling lamp.

»What's the story here?« Bobby frowned as he was inspecting his injuries and Adam felt a sense of panic rising like bile in his throat. He didn't want anyone to know that the kids in school bullied him ever since Dean had been sent to prison. The fact that Dean, as a cop and well-beloved member of the community, had done something as horrible as this murder made it even worse in school now. People treated Dean nowadays like he wasn't even worth the dirt under their shoes as if all his good deeds in the past would not matter. For Adam, this was just unbearable.

»Nothing.« He was quick to reply and tried a smirk on Bobby although he knew that he couldn't shit Bobby even for a second. »I was running late for the bus and stumbled. Landed face first on the sidewalk. Hell … Now I will never have a chance with Olivia Macintosh.« If Bobby knew that he was lying him in the face, he didn't show it. Maybe he decided that he would not ask him about this and would rather wait until Adam would find the courage to be honest with him. So, instead of drilling into him any further, he smiled and clasped Adam’s shoulder again.

»Hey, Adam, what would you say if we would go fishing this weekend, huh? Like we used to do.« It wouldn't be the same, just Bobby and him. They used to go camping together, he, Bobby, his father and his brothers. A manly weekend in the wilderness - which had mostly ended with running noses, bloody knees, and various other injuries.

»Yeah … Why not.«

Bobby motioned to the front door in the universal fashion that told Adam he wanted to go outside to talk in private with Adam. He followed without much hesitation because there really there wasn't much anything else to do without looking like an absolute asshole to Bobby. Outside it was even colder without his jacket, but that was hardly a surprise to Adam as he, with a small sigh, sat down on the steps to the front porch. Bobby did the same thing, putting his left arm around Adam’s shoulders just the way Adam was so used to after all these years. He couldn't help but melt into the familiarity of this moment.

»I thought that we could go early on Sunday morning, what do you think?« Bobby began again and Adam only nodded because he already knew what was coming next. »Your mom told me that she got an invitation from Sam’s rehab center to visit on Saturday. Apparently, every third Saturday a month is family day. So, if we would go fishing on Sunday, I thought that you and your mom could visit Sam on Saturday. I’m sure your brother can't wait to see you again. Last time you guys saw each other was in court, after all.« Bobby was still smiling at him, yet Adam, who was slowly becoming taller than the mechanic, was aware that his smile was forced, that he tried to keep the peace in this situation and to not anger Adam in any way. He felt stupid that Bobby seemed fearful of angering him. He didn't wish to be looked at like some kind of monstrous teenager.

»Bobby … I don't even know if I want to see him.« Adam sighed as he pulled his knees higher, tucking them under his chin and closing his arms around them to rest his chin on them. He felt miserable out here in the cold and that was certainly not because of the weather at all.

»I understand you, Adam.« He gently coaxed and before Adam could say something stupid, he continued. »I really do, Kiddo. We are all angry at Sam for what he did to himself and to what it subsequently led. But Sam is not at fault for your brother’s crime and Sam is not at fault for your father's death.«

»Yes he is, Bobby! He killed Dad!« The outburst was sudden, even for Adam, but Bobby did not flinch away from him, almost as if he had already known what was coming.

»Your dad had heart problems for a long time, Adam.« Bobby finally revealed and still, Adam was certain that this was just a lazy cop-out on his part. Hell, even if his father had had heart problems … What Sam did was even worse knowing this.

»No, he did not!«

»He did, Buddy … Ask your mother. She knew. Your father didn't want you boys to know. He didn't want you boys to worry. This heart attack that killed him … Adam, it might have happened anyway on that day. It's not Sam’s fault and I can promise you that he feels bad enough already. But now your brother needs your support, Adam. To get better. You boys only have each other left now, don't forget that.«

Suddenly he didn't care so much if he would act like an asshole teenager as he jumped back to his feet and stomped down the few steps that were leading up to the porch. »Support him?« Adam finally exploded. »Why should I? Why is anyone supporting this fucking junkie anyway? You know what, I'm sick of it, Bobby! Sammy here, Sammy there! What about me? What about Dean? Is anyone supporting us? No! Sam’s made his bed now he has to gonna lie in it too!« As he walked away from the house, he didn't even know where he was headed to and, frankly, he didn't care either.

All he wanted to do was to get away from this house where he felt like he didn't belong anyway. He felt betrayed by his own father for never telling him the truth. He didn't believe that Bobby was lying to him about his father’s heart problems. Why would he? Yet, this revelation made it just all so much worse. His father had lied to him. And had he not lied to him, maybe he would still be alive then. All he wanted to do was to get home and turn back time until everything was as it was supposed to be again.

※※※※※※※

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

He should have probably known that picking a fight with Eldon Styne was not the brightest idea he ever had and that it would land him in serious trouble. He should have known that he would land his ass in solitary if he would fight with someone like Eldon. He couldn't have known that Castiel would walk in on their fight and he couldn't have known that Castiel would join the brawl. He couldn't have known that his cellmate would be so furious that he would beat up Eldon bad enough to get him into the hospital wing.

»So … Tell me a little more about yourself, will you? I mean … we have a little time at our hands and nothing to do, right?« Dean smirked although the person on the other side of the wall was not able to see it anyway. The isolation cell was a lot smaller than the normal ones with a dirty looking toilet in the back corner. No way he would use that thing. There was no window, no bed, only a dirty looking mattress lying on the ground with a bunch of very suspicious stains. No way he would use that thing either.

The guards had been swift in their action as they had noticed the fight in the gym and easily broken it down, tearing Castiel and Dean away from Eldon and his goons. Needless to say, while Eldon had ended up in the hospital wing, Castiel and he had landed their asses in solitary. Which was not so solitary at all, as it turned out. They had been thrown into the cells right next to each other and though the walls were thicker than in their normal cell, the doors were mere barred gates and so they each could hear everything the other would do. That was why Dean knew that Castiel was probably sitting with his back leaned on the other side of the wall just like Dean.

»Why are you so interested in me?« He finally heard the other man sigh after a moment of complete silence had passed in which Dean had only listened to the dripping of water somewhere in the distance. »I wouldn't even know what to tell you about myself.« His voice was dull through the wall.

»What did you do for a living before?« Dean urged. »That would be a start.«

There was a long moment of silence again on the other side. »I did a lot of different things.« Well, that wasn't an answer at all. Dean found himself sighing himself now.

»Okay, I’ll start then.« He huffed. »I told you that I have brothers, right?« There was a hum on the other side. »And that I killed my brother’s drug dealer.« Again a hum. »My baby brother, Sam, almost died in August. He suffered an overdose - heroin - thanks to that girl Ruby. As my father learned what had happened with Sammy … Jesus, he just broke down. He suffered a heart attack and I … I wasn't there, you know? I was at the hospital with Sammy because I found him. It was already too late when Adam, my youngest brother, came home from school and found our dad. He called an ambulance but Dad died on the way to the hospital. He never got to see Sammy again, he never got to hear that Sammy was still alive and getting better again. Mine and Sam’s mom died when Sam was just a baby, you know? And Adam’s mom, Kate, though she is great and all ... She isn't much of a motherly figure really. She does her best, though. Yet, every day I’m here, I can't stop to worry about Adam and Sammy. I guess that's normal, right? And I'm sure they worry about me just as much. Your brothers are probably the same.«

»I doubt that.« Castiel’s answer was much quieter than he would have expected.

»But why?«

»Dean … Let's not act as if we would both not know who I am. I know that you are not stupid.« Castiel's reply was even quieter now as if he was worried someone would be able to hear them. As far as Dean was aware, there was no one in the remaining cells around them, though. They were alone - for now until the guards would come to check on them. »And let's not act as if we would both not know that you were a cop either.«

He felt his heart drop immediately and felt sweat forming on his forehead. Should he lie? Should he pretend as if he didn't know what Castiel was going on about? Should he deny everything? Then again … would it be wise to do that? »What betrayed me?« Dean chuckled instead although it cost him much effort to even attempt to sound light-hearted.

»Nothing really, only your name.« Castiel replied. »My family has much more influence on this place than you are aware. Every time I get a new cellmate it's a matter of mere moments until my family gets wind of it. Gabriel, my older brother, is usually the one paranoid enough to order complete background checks of my cellmates as soon as he knows their names.«

»Well…«

»It's his way of protecting me, I assume.«

»See? I told you they worry about you.«

»I wouldn't say that's the case. They just want to avoid to take care of me being killed by some enemy of our family - or negative press for that matter. He called me right the day after you arrived in this prison.« Castiel paused again for a moment before he started talking once again. »Do you hate your brother for what he did to your family?«

He couldn't deny that he was surprised about just how long Castiel had already known the truth about Dean. Then again … did it matter? A good question, that Dean had to admit. Of course, a part of him immediately wanted to say that he didn't hate Sam and though that was surely true, Dean couldn't bring himself to say it. »Sometimes.« He instead replied after a moment of hesitation. »I know that Sam did nothing of that on purpose. I know that it's not Sam’s fault that our father died. I know that he didn't mean to destroy everything and I know that it's most certainly not his fault that I killed that girl.«

»Still it's hard not to hate him, right?«

»Yes.« Dean breathed. »I wished I could say that you are full of shit, but you’re right, Cassie.«

»Please … Would you stop calling me that?« It was the first time Castiel objected to this nickname Dean would sometimes use for him and he couldn't deny that he was taken aback by that a little. However, though initially surprised, Dean was quick to realize why it was that Castiel took affront to that nickname.

»Your brothers call you this.« It was not a question and if it was true what Castiel claimed and his brothers didn't really care for him, then it was not just some random nickname they had come up for their littlest brother, not a term of affection or endearment as it was when Dean called his brother _Sammy_ instead of Sam. No, this nickname meant to humiliate their little brother.

»Yes.« The answer was almost too silent for Dean to hear.

»I understand.« Dean replied softly. He couldn't deny it, he had a soft spot for this weird guy and that was a problem because he couldn't be naive about Castiel or his family. He couldn't risk trusting this man in any way just because he was not a knife-wielding maniac in here. He was nice and seemed compassionate enough. It was hard to see him as some evil guy who deserved being here. It was hard to see him as the criminal he surely was.

»I was a doctor, before jail.« Castiel finally replied from the other side of that wall. »I was meant to become a heart surgeon. That's what I always wanted.«

»You are so young, though.«

»I am thirty.« Castiel replied. »I was able to visit college before most of my former classmates.« Dean couldn't help but grin at this. Castiel was not the type to say it like it was, but he could hear the implication.

»You’re a genius, is what you wanna say.« He gently teased. »You skipped a few classes in high school, right?«

»I wouldn't claim to be a genius.« Castiel replied as dryly as humanly possible. »But yes, it is true that I graduated earlier than most from high school. It's a long way to become a surgeon and I wanted this road to start as quickly as possible. I had limited patience and tolerance for most of the people around me in school. They were slow and boring and driving me insane. Needless to say, my family connections helped along the way. Did you ever think about going to college?«

»Me?« Dean laughed. »Hell no. Sammy is the smart one. I was always more for the hands on approach to life, you know? Sam actually studies law. He always wanted to become a lawyer and my little brother Adam wants to become a cop like me. Though, I can only hope that what I did will not make this impossible for him and that he’ll become a much better cop than I ever was.«

»I'm sure you weren't too bad.« Was Castiel really trying to console him? It was too surreal to be true. »You made just one mistake, Dean, and now you are atoning for it.«

»Still, I will never be able to go back to being a cop and in here I am in grave danger if anyone learns about me being a cop.« He sighed deeply as he rested his head against the cold wall. He didn't even know how late it was, only that he felt tired. »But, well, same is true for you, right? You made a mistake and now you are atoning for it, Cas.«

»I made more than just one mistake, Dean.« As if he was about to blurt out something stupid, Castiel stopped himself, before he spoke up again. »Next time, I’ll go with you to the gym.«

****

**-End of Chapter 8-**


	9. Chapter 9

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

Dean Winchester didn't know it yet, but solitary confinement was one of the worst things that could happen to him in prison. Castiel, on the other hand, knew all this already from first-hand experience. He had been long enough in this place to know stuff like this. Nothing was as bad as … nothing. Nothing was as bad as not having someone to talk to, someone to interact with for such a long amount of time. Castiel had never been a person to keen on spending too much time with other people, but judging by the way he had been brought up, he doubted that this was very surprising to anyone. The problem was never that Castiel didn't like people. Not at all. The problem was that he did like people way too much. He cared for other people way too much. This was, after all, the reason why he had decided to become a doctor in the first place. He had always wanted to help others, to heal others. But this wish of his to do good, was not that compatible with his life inside the mob. They weren't all mustache-twirling James Bond villains either, of course, and not every single member of the mob was pure evil, yet, helping others was rarely something someone who was involved in the mob would occupy himself with - at least not if it didn't gain them something.

Every charity they supported was nothing more than a front for money laundering in the end. Every good deed came with a huge price. Castiel had been taught and raised to always make the best of a situation, to always gain as much as he could from another person’s misfortune. That was the whole point. _»You are too weak.«_ Lucifer’s hissing would probably never truly leave him alone. _»You are too soft.«_ And that he was. Castiel knew that he was too soft, that he was too weak. His brothers claimed that he was their father’s favorite and though this might have been a reason why they had mocked and criticized him all his life, Castiel still knew that they had always been right. Had they not … He wouldn't be here now.

Maybe Balthazar would still have died. All these variables … It was impossible to say what the outcome of all of this might have been had he not been so soft, had he not tried to save his brother, had he not went to his brother to warn him, to get his attention, to help him, to just do what he thought was the one thing he had been sent to do.

And now here he was. His desire to help, his desire to save and communicate with others had brought him here. No, the problem had never been that he disliked people. The problem had always been that he cared too much. And as much as he had cared about Balthazar and his plight, as much did he care now about Dean Winchester who was just inches away from him, behind that wall that wasn't even a food thick. Caring for people had only ever gotten him into trouble, not to mention how dangerous his caring nature usually was for those he cared about. His touch corrupted. His touch was poison. His family had always been very strict about to whom he could have contact and what this contact should look like. That was just how it had always been. Still, he cared about Dean and he wished he wouldn't. He wished he could have just let those assholes have their way with Dean in the showers and not get involved in any way. It would all be so much easier.

The problem was only that this was just not who he was. No matter how hard he tried - and, God, had he tried. Ever since he had stepped inside this prison for the first time, he had spoken to no one if it hadn't been necessary, he hadn't made contact to anyone, not built relationships to anyone. Much like Gadreel too, only that Gadreel seemed to be a lot more successful in his mission of not getting involved and remaining feared. In the past, it hadn't been too difficult either. People were scared of him and his brooding nature, even more so when he would look dark and gloomy with stubbles around his jawline. His reputation, or rather that of his family, had come to his aide when he had needed it the most. Yet, five years later, this man was sent into his cell and Castiel … He was only a man, right? He was only human and Dean was gorgeous. Inside of the prison being gay was a choice - outside, in the real world, not so much.

»Hey, Sunshine« It wasn't easy to stay calm and keep up his usual stoic facade when talking to Dean Winchester, that was another truth that he had learned very recently. For someone like Castiel, who wasn't very good in reading people and their intentions, it was hard to understand Dean’s flirtations - if it even were flirtations. At least he didn't need to see Dean’s face like this. Maybe that would make figuring him out easier now that there was a wall between them. He didn't want to admit it, but it wasn't easy to keep his hands to himself with Dean always in such close proximity. His voice was dulled through the wall and yet he probably knew that Castiel was able to hear him just fine. »How are you today?«

What a weird question in a situation and environment as this and yet, oh so very fitting for someone like Dean. The thing was, though Castiel was not too sure what to think about Dean’s intentions, he felt - no, he wanted to feel - that Dean was generally a good man, a caring man. »It's another day. I still live.«

Dean breathed a laugh on the other side of that wall and his voice sounded deliciously raspy. »Good to hear that, Buddy.« Was it? It was so hard for him to tell if people were honest or not. He blamed his brothers for his inability to unmask a liar right away.

»How do you feel?« He was almost a little surprised himself as he asked Dean this question, yet, he couldn't quite help it. It just was his nature to look after other people.

»Still kicking.« Dean replied with another raspy laugh and Castiel found himself smirking just a little. »I actually thought about my brothers.« Dean continued after a moment. »Sammy is in rehab for quite a while now. I hope that he sticks through, I hope that he gets better there.«

»Maybe your brothers could visit you next time.«

»No … I told Bobby that I didn't want them too.«

»Why not?«

»Because I don't want them to be at such a place - ever.« He paused for a moment. »You don't have younger siblings so you don't understand this … but I already feel like a complete failure because I couldn't stop Sam from ruining his life. I don't want this to worsen and make them come here. They should stay away from prisons as far as possible.« He sighed deeply. »And I’m worrying, you know? Adam is sixteen … Puberty at its finest. I'm afraid he might get off track too while I'm not around to keep him in check. He wants to become a police officer like me…«

»But you don't want him to.« Dean didn't really need to spell it out for him. He could hear it from the way he was talking about his younger brother all too clearly. He couldn't even say that he wouldn't understand his sentiment.

»No … No, I'm too afraid that he might get injured or killed on the job.« He heard Dean huff. »Weird, I know, but I’m such a mother hen. Always was.«

»You seem more afraid of the things that could happen to your siblings than to yourself.«

»That's right. I mean, I don't have deathwish, don't get me wrong there. It's just … I can fend for myself. I can pick myself up when I fall, if I need to. I can deal with everything that's gonna get thrown my way. But all of this is in my control and they…«

»Aren’t.« Castiel sighed. »You can control what you make out of any given situation, but you cannot control them. You cannot control the situation they are in, you cannot control to keep them safe all the time.« Which was evident by the way how troubled Dean seemed because of his younger brother’s drug addiction and the fact that he had not been able to stop that from ever developing. It was almost as if Dean blamed himself that his brother went off the rails.

»You make me sound like a control freak.« Dean huffed once again but he was lacking his usual humor. »Then again … I killed my brother’s drug dealer … I killed her to control Sammy, to control the situation, to control that he goes to rehab, that he gets better, that he get his act together.«

»Maybe you are a control freak. But I guess … Your intentions are coming from a good place.« There was just a tiny hum as a response coming from the other side before they fell back into comfortable silence for a moment. A silence that Castiel himself broke and he didn't even know where the words leaving his mouth were coming from. »I don't have younger siblings, you are right. But I do understand how you feel. I felt like this too for my older brother, Balthazar.«

»The one you killed?« It was not an accusation, it was not a mockery.

»It was an accident.« Castiel finally admitted. »Everyone in here sees me as a crazed murderer who killed his brother. But it was an accident. I didn't mean to kill him.«

»Tell me what happened. I don't judge.«

※※※※※※※

It was a stormy night, as Castiel arrived at his brother’s ridiculously huge house on the outskirts of town. Balthazar had always had a thing for grandeur and expensive things and so it had come as no surprise to anyone as he had bought this later 1930’s mansion just outside of Kansas City. Then again, he was a public figure, an actor and musician just like his mother. He was famous so, of course, he wanted a big house to show off to the public and his admirers. People loved him. People had always loved Balthazar, no matter how shady his big brother came across most of the time. It didn't quite matter to most people when they noticed that certain kind of twinkle in Balthazar’s eyes. To them, to those who admired him, it was charming. He was a devil in disguise That was just how it was, how it had always been, how it would always be.

Balthazar had always liked to entertain people and thus people had always gravitated towards him. He was like a magnet, irresistible, impossible to stay away from, impossible to not like. Impossible in every way possible, especially for his little brother Castiel who found himself enraptured by the flamboyant decorations and portrayal of wealth his brother liked to present in his home. He shouldn't be that awestruck, he assumed. After all, he had grown up in a house twice the size of this one.

Outside thunder was rumbling loudly in the distance while thick drops of rain were hitting the large windows on the mansion like a thousand teeny-tiny fists as the butler, Mr. Wilkens, closed the door behind Castiel, urging him to wait a second so that he could fetch his boss. Already, Castiel could hear Balthazar play the piano faintly in the distance. His favorite past-time … That and drinking or snorting cocaine. Castiel nodded his agreement before the butler, who was an elderly gentleman with bowlegs in a dark suit, hurried down the hall to vanish through the arched doorway Castiel knew led into the south hallway of the mansion.

His brother should probably finally think of hiring someone to help the old Mr. Wilkens out around the house. He refused to go into retirement already but they all knew that his daily chores were getting harder and harder with each day. Yet, his brother was unwilling to even think about letting him go or hiring someone younger as a help. His reasoning behind this was an entirely sentimental one too. Mr. Wilkens had been his mother’s butler and though Balthazar had rarely seen his mother while growing up, it seemed as if he aspired to be close to her in every way possible now as an adult, although she was long dead. He was the spitting image of his mother, he had her same talent and just like her, he was a star at Broadway. At least in those way, his brother had a way of being close to her.

Sometimes, Castiel envied his older brother for this deep love and connection Balthazar had for his mother, even though she had not been there to raise him but gave him up all too willingly to further her career instead - not that she would have had much of a choice anyway. Castiel had never experienced anything like that. He didn't even know his real mother and growing up in the house with his siblings and his father, it had been forbidden to ask about her. His father, and more so his wife, Castiel’s stepmother, had always been extremely strict in this regard. It was more Castiel’s stepmother who had forbidden any contact and not so much his father. It was probably not necessary to explain to anyone why his stepmother might have been a little sour over the existence of children in her husband's life that she herself did not birth, with exception of Raphael.

Castiel, for his part, could understand that. Maybe that was why he never said something against how she had always been treating her stepsons - or about how Michael had decided to follow her example.

It only took his brother mere two minutes after Mr. Wilkens vanished, to emerge from the shadows of the hallway behind the archway and as his light blue eyes fell upon Castiel, his reaction was the same as it always was: Balthazar’s entire face lit up in a silent laugh as he opened his arms wide, approaching his little brother as if he had not seen Castiel in years and as if Castiel was the single best thing that ever happened to him. Balthazar was not the only one of his brothers who had shown him love in the past, that was the sad truth and though Gabriel had shown him love too, they all knew that if it would ever come to this, Gabriel and the others would throw their half-brothers under the bus when the time would come to do so. The four eldest of the seven brothers were a tight-knit unit, even though one of them was adopted. Apparently, to them, at least to Michael and Castiel’s stepmother, an adopted child was preferred over a child born out of infidelity. Maybe that was what brought them, him and Balthazar and their older brother, closer together. They were united in being part of this family and yet not belonging to it, being outsiders, being disposable.

As Castiel replied his brother’s hug he grasped the back of his shirt maybe a little harder than he usually would have and had he hoped Balthazar would not notice that, his brother once more proved to him what a fool he really was. »Cassie … What’s wrong?« There was not a single member of their family who was more empathetic than Balthazar. He had always been amazing in picking up on the slightest shifts in the mood of someone else. Maybe that was why he was that genius of an actor. There was not even a possibility of lying successfully to Balthazar, no matter how much he wished he could.

»We have a problem.« Castiel quietly replied and suddenly he was afraid that the walls might have ears to listen in on them. He would never put it past Michael to bug his brother’s house. As he let go of Balthazar finally, he looked at his brother and knew that Balthazar knew already what was going on and yet he was withdrawing from Castiel quickly, putting on a crooked grin.

»Please elaborate, little brother.« Balthazar smirked before he turned and walked towards the staircase, a clear invitation for Castiel to follow him upstairs so that they would be able to talk in private. His stomach was churning as he realized that Balthazar already knew why he was here and that he was going to play dumb instead of helping Castiel, instead of making it easier for him. Castiel had always thought that Balthazar was different from the others, that this would not escalate into something he didn't want and yet, Balthazar's entire attitude was screaming that he was wishing for a fight. He could see it in the way he smiled at him and in the way his shoulders tensed. Though he was smiling at Castiel, it didn't reach his piercing blue eyes. They remained cold, calculating.

»You know exactly why I’m here, Balthazar!« Castiel hissed as he hurried after Balthazar and up his fancy staircase only to come to a halt at the top of the stairs again. Here a balcony was overlooking the entry hall.

»I’m afraid not, Cassie. Maybe you want to explain yourself to me instead of harassing me in the middle of the night! You are lucky that Mr. Wilkens was still here to open the door for you or else I would have let you stay outside, Baby Bird.« Balthazar groaned as he sharply turned around to look at him.

»What’s with the crap you’re doing, Balthazar?« Castiel finally snapped and he didn't care too much that his voice had grown in volume. »The black market crap!«

»I’m afraid I don't know what you mean, Castiel. You forget yourself.« Had he humored him before and had he let his voice sound smooth and warm before, now it was cold as ice as he spoke sharply.

»Michael told me to investigate what you are doing! He noticed that money was missing! Don't you get it? Michael knows that you put loads of the money into your own pocket! Are you crazy?« He wanted to grab and shake his brother, hoping that this way he would be able to get some sense back into this thick skull of Balthazar’s.

»You don't have any proof of that, and neither does Mike!«

»Since when does he need proof? Did you forget what happened to the other one? You know what will happen if Mike decides that he can’t trust you anymore!« Castiel dragged a hand through his messy hair before he reached out to Balthazar once more, trying to grasp his brother by the arm as he turned pleading eyes at him. »Please, Balthazar … You know I have to tell him what I found out … You know I can't deceive him … Please … Just come with me and tell him yourself.«

Balthazar ripped his arm away from Castiel so quickly that Castiel almost lost his balance at the top of the staircase. »I’m a dead man if I do that!« Balthazar finally exploded and now was the first time Castiel was able to see the true distress in his eyes as realization was sinking in. His brother was drunk, he was panicking, he knew that death would be inevitable. Michael had always hated him, though probably not as much as he had hated Castiel and Balthazar knew this too. »You have to tell him that you didn't find anything!«

»He won't believe me! And when he finds out that I lied to him…« Castiel broke off and couldn't help but feel embarrassed because of it. He was twenty-five years old and still afraid of his big brother. »Balthazar, please! We can do this! Michael will forgive you if you ask him to! Or at least run away! at least get out of this country and into safety!«

»And leave everything behind? Do you think I want to live my life on the run forever?« Again, Castiel tried to get a hold of him, tried to grab him to calm Balthazar down but it ended in a small struggle instead as Balthazar tried to pull away while Castiel was oh so very desperate to get his older brother to understand how much he didn't want to lose him.

»Please, don't be stupid!« Castiel urged and as Balthazar's eyes turned dark the next second, he knew that whatever he would say next would sign both of their death sentences.

»Either you lie to Mike and tell him that I did none of the things he accuses me of or I’ll tell him about your little secret, brother.« Balthazar lowered his voice into a dangerous hiss and Castiel felt his innards freeze. »I’ll tell him that you’re gay … I’ll tell him and you know what he will do then. You have seen it before, right? Remember?«

It happened all too fast. Castiel felt as if he had left his body as he saw himself swinging at his older brother. Their fight was short but awful nonetheless and when it all ended, his brother lay lifeless on the tiles of the entry hallway of his mansion, the small table that stood in it’s center shattered into pieces under the weight of his body crashing into it, blood pooling from the wound on his head. He saw himself staggering down the stairs and approaching him, he saw himself grabbing for his brother once more with trembling fingers but before he could reach him, the shattering sound as Mr. Wilkens came back to the entry hall and dropped the metal tray he was holding, ripped him out of his trance. Their eyes met briefly, both equally horrified, but before Castiel could think something coherent or maybe explain the situation even, all he could do was stammer »I-It was an accident … I didn't mean to … It was an accident.«

»I’m calling the police!« Mr. Wilkens shot back at him and just as he turned to vanish back into the shadows of the hallway, Castiel flung himself around and fled the mansion.

※※※※※※※

The silence weighed heavy on Castiel as he leaned his head back against the wall with a silent sigh leaving his lips, his eyes resting on the grey wall in front of him. He didn't really see it, though. All he saw was his brother’s pale face right in front of him the same way it had been that night and just how he saw it every night in his dreams ever since.

»I don't understand why you were convicted for murder.« Came Dean’s voice from the other side of that wall. »It was clearly an accident.«  

»I … I have a confession to make.« Castiel found himself sighing. »I’m not just convicted for Balthazar’s murder … I was also convicted for the murder of Mr. Wilkens. He was found with a slit throat by the police.« There was a moment of silence again and this time he was sure that Dean wouldn't believe him what would follow.

»Did you?« The question came much more hesitant as he was used to from Dean.

»No.« He didn't know if Dean believed him or not, it was impossible to say. Heck, he wouldn't believe it himself would their roles be swapped. »I can only assume that it was my brother - or one of his henchman.«

»Michael?«

»Lucifer. Michael never get his hands dirty himself.« He shouldn't tell him stuff like this. He hardly knew Dean and yet he felt so comfortable talking to him. He felt so connected to him. »When I went to Balthazar, I knew that Michael would send someone after him … I wouldn't have thought that it would happen that fast.«

»It's not your fault, Cas. You only wanted to protect your brother, right?«

»I did and in the end that was what killed him.«

»Still … you are a good man, Castiel.«

»I am far from being that.« Castiel huffed. »I did awful things, Dean. Not willingly, but does that really matter in the end?«

»I think it does. It paves your way to redemption.« Was he right, though? He felt regret, not only for his brother’s death but for what he did before that. He felt regret for all the lives he destroyed, for all the crimes he committed but going against his orders would have killed him. Nevertheless, was that a decent apology? Was this a decent reasoning for what he had done in the past? He had ruined lives. He had been the destroyer of worlds, no matter how small these worlds had been in the eyes of his brothers who had ordered him to do the terrible deed. It didn't seem fair to Castiel that he should get a chance of forgiveness just like that despite the atrocities he had committed. »Listen, Cas, I believe that almost everyone deserves a second chance. And you don't strike me as some evil mastermind who runs around slaughtering people left and right. You didn't choose to be born into a family like this. You didn't choose what they put onto you. And your brother’s death, though on your hands, was an accident. I believe that if someone truly searches for forgiveness and truly regrets what they did, they can be forgiven and they deserve a second chance.«

»Even if I get out, I will always be part of this.« Castiel sighed to himself. The thought of ending his life was not a strange one to him. Far too often he had thought about doing just that in great detail during his life, never knowing why he shouldn't just do it. There was nothing he had to lose anyway. Then again, there was and yet, for this reason alone it would be better would he not be there. »There is nothing I have to look forward to.«

»So, no boyfriend waiting outside? No one except your family?« For Dean, his family was everything and meant everything. He was living and breathing for his family. He cherished those people who Castiel could only envy in all of this. He wondered if they were even aware of how lucky they were to have someone like Dean in their lives. Castiel, however, saw things very differently when it came to his own family.

»There is someone.« Castiel admitted, though very silently so. He had not often talked to anyone about that. He had talked to Balthazar about it, but Castiel was not naive enough not to believe that the others wouldn't know all about this secret of his. »I always felt different growing up and as I realized that I was gay … I was mortified. I tried to suppress it, tried to ignore it, tried to be normal, tried to make sure no one would ever know. Coming out as gay in my family is not an option, Dean. You can be flamboyant all you want, as long as you are not a cocksucker. Simple as that and Michael is even more strict when it comes to stuff like this than our father could ever have been.«

»So what did you do?«

»I tried dating women for a while and failed miserably. The only times I felt a semblance of being myself was when I was with another guy here and there but I always knew that I could never have something more than a single hook-up with anyone.« He paused for a second. It was odd talking to Dean about his sex life like this and why he was so open to him was an enigma to Castiel. They were not even friends, right? They were cellmates, nothing more and yet here he was vomiting out his life’s story. They were stuck together for the next fifteen years, if none of them would die before that time would run out. »It was Balthazar who introduced me to Amelia. She was pretty and nice, bright. Would I be straight, she would have been everything I would have wanted in a woman.« Again he paused and dragged his left hand over his face before a mirthless little laugh escaped him. »It was just one night.« He then groaned. »One, Dean. The first woman I ever really slept with and you know what happened?«

»She got pregnant.« Dean’s reply came from the other side.

»She got pregnant.« Castiel agreed quietly. »Twins. A boy and a girl.« As his eyes dropped to the floor, he refused to think about them, he refused to try and imagine their faces.

»What happened?«

»They are alive, if you mean that. What happened was that I went to jail. Amelia and I … We stayed loosely in contact. She realized early that she would never really have me. Apparently, that was okay. A few months after our hook-up she told me about the twins. A few days later Balthazar died. They are four years old now. Sometimes she sends pictures but I either hide them or send them back. Still … They were beautiful, Dean. Claire and Jack. I still can’t believe it sometimes, when I see their little faces in front of my eyes, you know? That someone like I created something as beautiful and pure as them and just by pure dumb luck.«

»Does your family know?«

»There is nothing Michael doesn't know.« He sighed. »Balthazar was the only one I talked to about this shortly before his death. He would never have told anyone. It was too dangerous. We’ve seen what happens when one of us has something Michael disapproves of. He has never done anything until now. He has left them alone, for now. Amelia and the children are safe somewhere in Illinois and I wish to keep it that way.«

»But your children, Cas! Aren't they reason enough for you to get out of here as soon as possible? Did you never think about trying to be released sooner? For their sake?«

»I’d rather stay as far away from them as possible. Bad enough they know who their father is. I don't want them get involved because getting involved means danger to them and that I couldn't stand.«

After the silence settled back in on them, Castiel found his thoughts wander back to what Dean said over and over again. There was nothing he would want more than have his children with him. He had never seen himself as a parent, never thought that one day he would be one and yet he had sired those kids by some miracle and ever since he had seen the first ultrasound picture of them in the womb, he had wanted nothing more but having this normal life and this family, to see his children growing up normal and as far away from the mafia as possible. Yet, he knew that this would never happen. For them, it would be better would he just die.

※※※※※※※

The light inside the room was blindingly white and the brown eyes of Agent Mills were drilling into his very soul as she stared him down. »I’ll do it.« The voice that spoke didn't even sound like his and he could hardly recognize it. One week in solitary confinement had taken a toll on him despite the fact that he had been able to talk to Castiel every now and then whenever there had not been a guard around to shush them. He would have never realized how lonely it could be sitting in some moldy old cell with nothing to do, all alone by himself for the most part for days on end, his only source of human contact the times the guards had brought food or when he had been able to talk to Castiel.

Agent Mills looked him straight in the eye as she crossed her arms, searching for any sign of bullshit on Dean’s face. The bruising he had earned from the fight with Eldon had already almost completely healed. His hands were bound by handcuffs with a thin chain between them and so were his feet as he sat in this interrogation room far removed from the areas prisoners had access to.

»Are you sure about that, Mr. Winchester? This job is not an easy one and it's nothing you should do without being completely sure about it. I showed you what happened to Zachariah Smith last time and Michael Pellegrino has his eyes and ears everywhere. If you would manage to get us the information we need to cut off the head of this beast, the FBI will do everything in its power to ensure not only your safety but the safety of your family too, not to mention that we will ensure your early release too, of course. Although, I might add, that you and your family will have to go into witness protection as soon as you deliver.« Agent Mills started explaining, her eyes still drilling into his own green ones. »Mr. Winchester, I want you to be absolutely sure about this and to remember what's at stake here. If you decide to go through with this and help the FBI, your life will change forever and that of your family too.«

»Maybe it's time for a change.« Dean replied with a small sigh. He was still a cop and he still wanted to put the bad guys behind bars. Castiel, however, was not one of them. »Just one more thing, Agent Mills: I would like you to look into the case of Castiel Novak again. He will be my greatest asset in this - at least if I play my cards correctly. He seems to like me. The least what you can do is to make sure he gets out as well - unscathed.«

»Castiel _Pellegrino_ , Mr. Winchester, is a dangerous criminal.« Agent Mills directed her darkest frown at him. »And I would much rather have the entire Pellegrino bunch behind bars than to let even one of them get away.«

»Just look into his case, okay? He told me the death of his brother was an accident and that not he killed this butler but his brother Lucifer after he escaped the house of his brother.« Was he really defending a murderer here? Was he really trying to convince Agent Mills that Castiel, a member of one of the most dangerous crime families of North America, was a good guy? The look Agent Mills shot him told him that this was exactly what he sounded like. Still, she sighed.

»I’ll look into it.« She agreed reluctantly. »But if you really want to help him get out of here, I would advise getting a lawyer involved to make the case for him.« With that she rose from her chair. »I will not come here again unless it's an emergency, Mr. Winchester. Coming here at all is a risk for us both, always remember that. If anyone were about to find out that we work together, it would mean certain death for you.«

»One more thing, Agent.« Dean quickly addressed her again as he looked up at her. »The Pellegrino family, the inner circle … I know that there are seven brothers, one of them, the second youngest, dead.«

»That is correct. Balthazar Pellegrino, going by the surname Roché in public, died aged twenty-eight five years ago. What do you want to know?«

»There are seven, but I only know six of their names. Michael, the head of the beast, Lucifer, his right hand man, Raphael, Gabriel, Balthazar and Castiel. Who am I missing?«

Agent Mills paused a second as if she would need to think about it before she sighed and drove a hand through her hair. »Yeah … the seventh one.« She began. »He goes by the name Penikett. Gadreel Penikett Pellegrino. He’s actually in this very jail too, a highly dangerous man who should be on death row for all I know but his family actually saved his ass from that. A vile creature, if you ask me. Killed many people out there but we could never prove it - until he killed his wife and unborn child. The messiest crime scene I ever saw.«

If she noticed Dean’s surprise, she didn't show as she smiled at him shortly. »You are a brave man, Mr. Winchester. I’ll include you in my prayers.«

 

**-End of Chapter 9-**


	10. Chapter 10

**Valley Hope of Atchison, Kansas**

The atmosphere inside the family room of the large farmhouse was beyond awkward as Sam found himself sitting in one of the comfortable grey couches beside Kate. Through the large window that was overlooking the vast garden warm sunlight was pouring in and on the azure blue sky outside was not a single cloud to be seen. The family room had once been the winter garden as the house had still been owned by a wealthier old lady before she had sold it to Sonny and left to live with her remaining family. Sonny had told him that it had not been easy at first to convince her of his plans for the house but after he had managed to show her the benefits of what he was going to do, she had been hooked and eager to help. The room was now fully equipped with a few couches and armchairs in the center of the room, placed around an old wooden coffee table with a fire gently crackling in the fireplace at the far wall of the room. There were many fireplaces inside the old farmhouse but only ever used in the rooms were the patients and staff would hang out in, like the family room or the living room. To the side with the window, Sonny had set up a few chairs and tables with board games so that visiting family members might play a game with their loved ones. They weren’t forced to stay inside at all times, this was no prison, after all. Most other visiting family members were actually outside talking with their loved ones. That was why it was so quiet inside the room now and though Sam would have preferred the privacy and quietude, now he wished nothing more than having a distraction.

Kate could hardly keep her hands to herself, always gasping for his hands to squeeze them and reassure him of her love and presence as if Sam might forget that she was here otherwise. As if he could forget that, especially not with Adam’s blue eyes drilling holes into him as he sat across from him in one of the armchairs, looking like he wanted nothing more than to get up and leave - or strangle him.

He couldn't blame him. A part of hi was glad to see his little brother here. A part of him was thankful that Adam was apparently willing to give his big brother a second chance and come to see him, but there was still that voice in the back of his mind too that reminded him how much Adam hated him for what he did and that Adam’s visit here would not change a damn thing about that.

»So, Sam, how are you, Marshmallow?« Kate gently coaxed with a soft smile playing on her pretty face. He remembered how he had first met her and how he, a shy five-year-old boy, hid behind his big brother’s legs when she came to their house and introduced herself to them, eager to leave a good impression on the kids of her boyfriend. He remembered how Dean had thrown a tantrum at first as their father told them about his new girlfriend. He had been furious and sad because he had been so overwhelmed by the fact that their father would even consider loving another woman after their mother, but for Sam, it hadn't been this big of a deal. He had been angry too at first, but mainly because he had wanted to be loyal to Dean. He had no memories of their mother and so he had always known that this kind of pain and sadness had to be much harder for his older brother to deal with because Dean had actually known their mother, had actually had a relationship and bond with their mother. However, Sam remembered how he thought how pretty this woman was the first time he had met her with her long flowing golden hair. Dean, however, had not been to keen on her. Back then he hadn't understood why, to him, Kate had looked like an angel, but to Dean, she had been just too similar to their mother.

It had taken Kate quite a long time to get Dean on her side but when she succeeded, she had found an ally for life. Dean, unlike his little brothers, had always acted tough around her and as if he wouldn't secretly like the nicknames Kate was giving her boys. Hearing Kate’s nickname for him now, after so long a time was odd and he didn't know how to feel about it. A very certain memory came back to him swiftly though and he could see his father in front of his eyes with raised brows and crossed arms. _Really, Kate? Pumpkin, Marshmallow, and Muffin? What's with you giving our boys food names?_ He couldn't help but smirk.

»I'm getting better.« He found himself mumbling, returning the next squeeze of Kate’s hands gently as he looked at her now and met her bright blue eyes that were so different from his or Dean’s or their mom’s. »I can't wait to get back to college. I already missed so much and am so far behind now, even though I try and study while I’m here. But it’s hard to focus, sometimes.« He finally added quietly. A part of him wanted nothing more than to ask about Dean and if someone had visited him already, how he was doing in prison and if he was still alright, but he didn't know if he had the right to do so. The letter he had written his brother was still unfinished and lying on his desk in his room upstairs. He wondered if he would ever have the balls to finish and actually send it. Instead, he turned to look at Adam again. »So … Adam … How’s school?«

»Fine.« He was defensive, but that was hardly a surprise, he assumed. Adam was a teenager, after all, and they had just lost their father two months ago. Plus, Sam would rather not think about the kind of stuff his brother had to deal with in school after Dean had been sent to prison. Dean … He itched to go see Dean and yet he knew that he couldn't do it. Not now. Not yet. Maybe not ever. It was shameful, yes, but he was afraid to face his brother. A part of him was even scolding himself that he thought about Dean now although it was so obvious that his little brother, that Adam, needed his attention and support now more than anyone else. The dark circles under his eyes and the paleness of his skin, nor the bruises on his face, had not escaped Sam’s eyes. He didn't need a psychiatrist to see that his brother was having a hard time dealing with his grief and the loss of his brothers.

»Cool … Any Halloween plans?« Why was he even trying to get a conversation going with Adam? He knew that his brother didn't want to talk to him. He knew that Adam wanted to leave and that he probably hated him right now. Still, he couldn't help it. He loved that little gremlin. »Remember the first Halloween we went out trick or treating without Dad for the first time? Dean was … fifteen, I believe and didn't want to go trick or treating at all … Especially not with Dad joining and instead of letting him off the hook and allow him to go to some party or binge on horror movies, Dad made him go alone with us. It was weird not having Dad around for the first time, but I remember how excited I was the entire time. It was like an adventure. Just me and my brothers and all dressed as superheroes. Of course, Dean was Batman, I was Superman and you decided you wanted to be Robin. Hell … You got us tons of candy that night!« Sam tried a chuckle but Adam’s face had not changed one bit while Kate was smiling fondly at him. »Anyway … I remember how you were so tired that Dean had to carry you back home on his back.«

»I was four, what did you expect after you guys pulled me along through three neighborhoods to get more candy?« Finally, a response that was not so monosyllabic, this time, although it was not lacking in snark. »You guys were always so greedy and could never get enough of that sweet stuff. You ate until your stomachs hurt and Dad lectured us about it every god damn year afterward.«

»Yeah…« Sam smirked. »He did so last year too, remember? Dean ate so much Halloween candy that Dad had nothing to offer the kids that came to our house and had to drive to the store again and later Dean laid on the couch moaning about his aching stomach. He just never learned.«

There was a moment of silence between the three of them as Kate brushed one of Sam’s long strands of hair behind his right ear gently. »Yes…« She sighed fondly. »That was John, wasn't he? Always there to get his boys in line, no matter their age.« She huffed a laugh. »You boys always were his babies, even when you grew over his head.« She teased Sam gently and Sam, of course, knew that this was true. He regretted all the times he had fought with his dad in the past, thinking that his father didn't understand him at all. As he glanced at Kate, he saw the unshed tears glimmer in her eyes. She had loved John until the end and they all knew this. Maybe she had regretted breaking up with his father even, but they had gotten along way better as just friends in the end.

»So, any plans for the big night?« Sam turned to Adam again as he tried a grin but Adam was quick to derail him again with his stoic face, a mask of silent anger directed straight at his older brother.

»Of course not.« Adam bit out and quickly pressed his lips into a thin line as if he was biting back something he wanted to say but rather didn't because he didn't want a fight to break out between them just now.

»Well … You always loved Halloween.« Sam urged his little brother softly although there was a voice in the back of his head urging him not to. Their once good relationship seemed gone. It was true that Adam had always adored Dean while growing up, but Sam and Adam had a very different kind of relationship than Adam and Dean had. To Dean, Sam and Adam had always been the little guys he had to help raising and making sure they would not lose their way. Dean had always been the leader, always been in charge, always been the dominant force between the three brothers, the head of the beast, so to say. Sam and Adam, however, understood each other on a different and more equal level. They had been close but all of that seemed to be gone now.

»Sure did. Before you killed Dad.« It was obvious that Adam didn't mean to say it and after the words slipped him he looked horrified of his own statement.

»Adam!« Kate yelped in surprise and horror all the same while Sam could only feel how his stomach twisted. It was this exact moment when he caught a glimpse of Meg walking past the family room. Only for a second their eyes met but it was enough for the moment. They understood each other without many words. »You apologize to your brother immediately!«

»No.« Sam cut her off a little quieter than he intended to as he squeezed her hand again, but couldn't bring himself to look at her this time. His eyes remained fixed on his little brother and he could see the hatred radiate from him, seeping out of his eyes. »It's okay.«

It was okay that Adam had reacted the way he had. Right? Of course, it had been okay. This was how Adam felt and he was not wrong either. They all knew that Sam was the one responsible for his father’s heart attack two months ago. Had he not overdosed, his father would have not reacted like this and he would still be alive. And Adam … Adam would not have found their father dying in the living room of their home. Yet, as he later lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, he couldn't shake off that empty feeling deep down in his guts and the utter loneliness that he was experiencing. He felt awful. He deserved the hatred of his brother, there was no denying that.

In this night, Sam tossed and turned from one side to the other, trying to find sleep, yet highly aware that sleep would not come. Adam had said the words he had been thinking ever since all of this had gone down. Adam had said what no one had dared to say until now and his little brother was not the only person in his family who thought like this.

※※※※※※※

A thin layer of fog laid over Mary’s lake in Kansas. As a child, whenever he had visited the lake, he had not realized the significance of this very lake in his brothers' lives. He had connected the dots, of course. Their mother’s name was Mary. Yet, as a child, he hadn’t quite made the connection really. It had taken him years to get behind why his brothers liked this particular lake so much - especially Dean.

As he sat there on this small camping stool, he wanted desperately to look over the lake and remember all the good childhood memories that he got to experience here. He wanted desperately to remember all those times when he had been out here with his brothers and his father. Here, in this lake, every last one of them had learned to swim. His father had taught all of them. He recalled how he had been stripped off his floaties when he had been no older than five, perhaps and how his brothers watched on, cheering for him to keep going, his father an ever-present source of calmness and support by his side.

Though, no matter how hard he tried to think of the good memories, all he could see was his father’s pale face right in front of him, drained of all blood, looking almost peaceful as he lay crooked on the carpet in the living room the phone still in his hand. He had not been able to call for help before he collapsed in the middle of the living room, surrounded by the pictures of his family, his boys, the same boys that had disappointed him so very much, smiling down on him. When their father had been alive, he couldn't have been prouder of his boys but in death, they were all just one massive disappointment. A part of him was almost glad that his father had not needed to witness what happened during these past few months.

In the past, Adam had always enjoyed the serene calm of the lakeside, sitting on the small pier on a camping chair with the fishing rod in hand and nothing around but trees and water, the long spindly twigs of an old willow reaching down to the water like in some old painting. This morning, however, as the dusk still laid over the lake as the sun was slowly rising from its slumber and began to tin the sky above in a beautiful shade of magenta, he felt anything but calm and serene. He felt as if he was waiting for a bomb to go off. But Bobby Singer was not like this and sometimes Adam wished he were. Sometimes it was beyond exhausting when the people around him wouldn't let him feel their anger or restlessness. Probably, because he was not used to people keeping their cool. Neither his father nor his brothers had ever known how to keep a level head. The bad temper was in their blood. Still, Adam rather had someone yell at him than just quietude and loneliness.

In their house screaming and yelling had been no rare occurrence. One of them had always had a bone to pick with someone else, but as quickly as a storm would hit their house, it would be over and forgotten again. Sometimes, Dean and Sam had gotten at each other's throats so harshly that Adam had feared they would actually do something they would regret but five minutes later they had been an item again, laughing and joking as if nothing at all had happened. Honesty, that was the key. They had always been honest with each other, especially in their anger.

»Adam…« Bobby finally broke the silence after they sat for over two hours in complete quietude. »Adam your mom told me about what you said to Sam yesterday.« He looked older than Adam recalled now that he looked at the man beside him, the old baseball cap on his head that already seemed glued to his hairline.

»I … I just…« Adam didn't even know what to say or how to explain himself to Bobby and Bobby Singer, as always, was quick to catch up. He just knew _his boys_ too well.

»Do you really think that Sam is responsible for your father's death, Son?« The question did not come out as some kind of accusation. It was honest in its core. Maybe that was even worse, now that he came to think about it. Bobby really wondered if Adam had meant what he said and though yes, he had meant what h said, he started to realize that to the adults around him the possibility that he really thought like this seemed too fallacious to be fathomable.

He shook his head. There was nothing he could say or do because the lump in his throat didn't allow him to speak. There was so much he wanted to say, so much guilt that wanted to spill out, so much regret and sadness but he knew he just couldn't talk to Bobby the way he wanted to talk to him. There was so much he couldn't say. Not to Bobby, not to his mom, not to Sam.

»I … I just miss Dean so much.« He finally gritted out. »And Dad … I miss them so much. And I … I want to go back to when everything was still okay.«

One of Bobby’s large hands came to a rest on his shoulder before he squeezed gently. »I know, Adam.« He replied with a gentle hum and yet Adam knew that Bobby didn't even understand half of what he was going through.How could he? No one could understand him. »But we can now just look forward, not backward. You’ll get your brother back in time. And then you Chipmunks can continue driving me insane again.«

※※※※※※※

»Your brother is quite the asshole.« He knew it was a mistake the moment he walked into Meg’s room at the end of the hallway and found her sitting on her bed with crossed legs, reading some shitty gossip magazine. »I mean, giving you the blame for your father’s death? Sick, man.«

»Do you have it?« The moment he asked that question, he felt like a complete and utter failure. He had been sure that he was clean. He really thought that he had left it all behind him, that his weakness and the addiction were a thing of the past and that he now only needed to go through with this program to prove to the world what he already knew. He had been sure that, after his withdrawal, he had the worst behind him, that now all he needed to do was to get his body to understand that he really didn't need that god-awful stuff, that he was stronger than the drugs, that he could live without them and could go back to normal again as if nothing happened. That he maybe go back to college, reconcile with Jessica and make up for his mistakes. Ruby and the drugs … that had been a mistake, a misstep in his life and now it would be on him to grow and learn from it, to rise like a phoenix from the ashes. A story of success in a distant future, perhaps.

He had been so naive.

It was unclear to Sam what had led him to come to this realization. He couldn't say if it was Adam’s harsh words or his own weakness. It probably didn't matter anyway. The only thing that mattered was the feeling that had gripped him tightly ever since he had been confronted with his family almost a week ago now. It wasn't like he would have just decided that he needed Meg’s _services_. It wasn't as if it had been a conscious decision, that he had just woken up and came to the conclusion that he needed the stuff she could give him. It had happened gradually. After the thought had first crossed his mind what relief his drug would bring him, it had been impossible to shake off again and the thought had slowly grown into a need. Not something he thought could help him, not something he wanted, but something he _needed_ , something he had to have so that he wouldn't go insane.

Meg looked at him out of big and very much surprised eyes as if she hadn't really thought he would come and ask her about it again. But then, after Sam had closed the door of her room behind him as quietly as he could, she was suddenly all too eager to comply, flinging her stupid old gossip magazine across the bed to hurriedly get up from her bed only to get on her knees and reach under her mattress. Outside it was already dark and the night was approaching in big steps. Dinner was over and soon everyone would retreat to their rooms to go to sleep. The days in this facility followed  a strict plan and order. There was no slacking off somewhere, no hanging around uselessly. They were put to work around the house and that work was sometimes tiring and straining. Until now, this work routine had helped Sam to busy his mind and body just enough so that e would not think about the drugs. That was the point, after all. But now, days after the thought had first crept into his mind, not even the work outside or his new workout routine could keep the monster at bay.

»I warn you, Sammy, if you tell anyone about this, I’ll make your life a living hell.« She warned with a smirk. »Sonny will throw me out of here if he ever gets wind of this, okay? And if that happens my dad will disown me.«

»Got it … Just … Go on, okay?« He urged as he quietly opened the door again to peek outside. His heart was racing and he felt nauseous. His whole body was taut as a bowstring with anxiety. There were no locks on the doors and so no matter of protecting them from getting caught. He could not get caught. His family could never know how weak he truly was. He wouldn't be able to stand their disappointment again. And after tonight, he wouldn't need the drugs again anyway! He just needed this one time. He just needed to take the edge off and relax again so that he could sleep again for one night at least. After tonight he would start right up again with getting clean and back on track but he needed this one time so very badly.

»Still, I can't believe that your brother said something like this to you, Sam!« She shot over her shoulder while still searching under her mattress, before she pulled a small plastic bag out between mattress and bed frame. »I mean, what the fuck? To blame you for your father’s death!«

»Meg! Please! Could you just give me what I asked you for?« He could hardly even suppress the tremor in his voice at this point she closed the door again an pressed his hands firmly against the wood as if to make sure that it was properly shut. How was it even possible that he had been so calm for almost a month until he met his brother and suddenly he felt like he was still in the midst of his withdrawal?

»If I give you what you want, then I want something in return.«

He couldn't help but let out a groan. »What do you want, Meg?«

»An answer. Why did your brother say this to you? He has to really hate your guts to say something as awful as that you killed your father!« With a sigh, a ruffled through his hair and pressed his hands reassuringly against the wood one last time before he turned and bridged the distance between him and Meg. For a second, he wanted to just grab the plastic bag from her, but then he sat down heavily on her bed instead. She hesitated but then followed his example.

»Deal.« Meg couldn't be more excited as she opened that little zip-lock plastic bag and pulled a few pills out of it. »You ever snorted that stuff?« Meg grinned and Sam found himself shaking his head. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to listen to Meg ramble about which way to take heroin was the best and most exciting way, he just wanted to get it over with, he wanted to feel calm again, he wanted to sleep again. He had not slept in days because of the nightmares shooting through his brain every time he made the mistake of closing his eyes. He couldn't go on like this for much longer and that he knew for certain. There was no way of denying that truth and he was not a fan of lying to himself anyway.

Meg seemed to sense his restlessness and for once she was wise enough not to tease him as she pulled a simple mirror out of her nightstand before she started to crunch up the pills and started to prepare the lines. Sam just watched the process, a silent voice inside his mind pleading him to stop and walk away. Still, Sam remained where he was. He couldn't help it. He had to do this. He had to go through with this. He was weak, yes, there was no denying of that. He was just weak and for once he didn't want to think about what Dean would say or their father or how disappointed everyone would be in him and his utter weakness. He just couldn't be bothered.

Snorting the thin lines that Meg had prepared for him through that thin little pipe was nasty and yet much quicker and easier than jamming a needle into his arm, he supposed. He didn't know if he could get used to that - and he shouldn't anyway. There was no need to get used to it because Sam only needed it today so that he would be able to relax again, maybe even sleep and that was it. It was like Meg said before, he could stop everytime he wanted.

As he later settled back against the wall Meg’s bed was shoved against, he already felt the rush of the drug running through his system, making everything just a bit easier to cope with as it seemed. He could feel his body relax. »It's true what my brother said, you know?« He found himself chuckling after a while just as Meg came to a rest next to him cushioning her head on his shoulder. »I killed my dad. He had a heart attack when he got the news of my overdose. My big brother Dean was with me in the hospital because he found me. No one was there to find Dad in time, though. As Adam did, it was already too late.«

»Shit, Dude…«

»Yeah … They all give me the fault and of course, they are right, right? I destroyed my family. My big brother went to prison for me and my dad died because of me.« The words came easily now that he felt calmer again. Back in the days with Ruby, the drug had given him a rush of excitement but now it made him calm.

»What did your brother do?«

»He killed my drug dealer, Ruby. Slit her throat from ear to ear.« Sam paused for a second as he thought about Ruby. How many times had they shot up heroin together and sat beside one another like that? He almost wanted to shove Meg away from him because all of this was just too similar. »Ruby … Fuck … She was so hot, you know? I never thought a girl like her could ever find interest in someone like me.«

»Why not? You’re pretty hot too.« Meg smirked and before he knew it, he could feel her lips on his and her body pressing into his. He was almost certain that he had missed a very crucial part of this conversation. When the hell did she climb on his lap? He felt dazed and unable to follow everything that happened. The rush of excitement that slowly took over from the previously experienced serene calmness was clouding his brain and didn't allow him to think straight. His hands were underneath her blouse within seconds and he would have gone through with this, had it not been for the door to Meg’s room being opened from the outside.

»Come on, say it.« Sam frowned as he found himself sitting in that comfortable armchair in Sonny’s office not even an hour later. The man on the other side of the desk had his forehead covered in deep lines and his fingers shaped into a tent tucked underneath his chin. He seemed to think about his next step and that very carefully all the while Sam could not yet grasp what all the fuss was about in the first place. So what he had relapsed? It wasn't as if he couldn't stop whenever he wanted!

»Say what?« Sonny finally answered and cleared his throat as he placed his hands on the desk before him and leaned back in his squeaking chair.

»You’re disappointed. That's what people usually tell me when they look at me like that.« Sonny wore almost the exact same look on his face that Sam had seen on his father’s face when his old man had first learned about the drugs.

»I won’t lie. I am disappointed.« Sonny said after a moment. »You made such great progress during the last weeks, but I'm more disappointed in myself, Sam. I should have known this would happen. I should have read the signs better. I shouldn't have let you get this close to Meg.«

»It's not her fault.«

»Sam, do you really think that this was the first time she did this?«

»Did what?«

»Getting close to another patient to hook them up with their drug of choice? She has done this several times already but only this time we have proof. That's her modus operandi. She looks for someone like you, someone desperate and then she brings that person to relapse - for free, of course, all in good friendship, so to say. Because after she managed this, she can sell you guys whatever you want.« Sonny explained with a soft shake of his head. »Meg Masters is a master manipulator, Sam. She always was and I am guilty of being manipulated by her as well. Until now I could never bring myself to kick her out without evidence for what she did. I felt sorry for her. But enough is enough.«  

»What? No! Come on, Sonny! Her dad will disown her!« He didn't even know why he was so quick to defend her. If it was true what Sonny said, she was one of the vilest pieces of shit he had ever had the misfortune of knowing. But his clouded mind did not yet allow him to see her like this.  

»Sam, that already happened years ago. She hadn't had contact with her family in six years, ever since she ran away from her last rehab facility. This was already her second chance in this place too and I don't know how many more she got before. A girl like her … Sam, she will never get clean because she doesn't want to and because she thinks she has it under control. For you, however, there is still a chance.«

»And what now?«

»Now I have to inform your family.«

»What? No! It was just one time, Sonny!«

»Sam, you are about to go into withdrawal and detox again. Everything you have accomplished after your overdose you have to go through all over again just because of this one time. Is this not clear to you? You will have to suffer for days and days again to get this crap out of your system and yes, we have to inform your nearest of kind because of the danger involved in this.« Sonny wouldn't be swayed. Even in his condition, Sam Winchester was able to tell this straight away and the horror that began creeping into his chest and closing around his heart like a fist of ice made it almost impossible for him to breathe.

※※※※※※※

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

_He had to force open the door to the small dorm room. Sammy had not been answering his phone for hours since last night and Dean, being his older brother and knowing in what big of a trouble his little brother was as of late, had decided he was done waiting for an answer. He would get one, today. And he would get his little brother back on track if necessary even in enforcing the law. He was a cop, after all, and his brother a junkie. It hurt to even think this. It hurt to even put it into words. Yet, if this was the only way how he would get his baby brother back, if this was the only way how he could save Sam’s life, then he would put his brother in fucking handcuffs._

_Inside the room, it was silent except for the TV running in the background. His brother had always been orderly and clean but now his room was a mess. There was stuff lying everywhere looking as if someone had flung various items across the room in a fit of rage, perhaps. No sign of Sam, though. At least not at first. The room was not big and held only Sam’s bed pushed in the corner of the room, a window overlooking the park, a small desk that was buried underneath thousands of books, a bookshelf that was equally stuffed, a mini fridge that had been Dean’s gift to Sammy as he had moved into his dormitory on campus, the old TV that Sam had taken with him from his room so that Adam could not put his greedy fingers on it, a narrow closet that was open with Sam’s clothes spurting out of it in a messy pile. That was it, but at least his brother had his own toilet separated by a door to the left._

_Dean could see light coming out of the tiny bathroom and his steps quickened as his nose started to pick up on the rancid smell of sex, sweat, and vomit, of all things. As he ripped open the door without caring too much about Sam’s privacy, he felt as if he was stepping into a horror movie. The toilet was just big enough for one person and Dean found his little brother half naked lying between the sink and the toilet itself on the dirty tiles, lying in his own mess, covered in dirt and vomit. Some of the things he had on him, Dean couldn't even distinguish. Were this not his brother, were this just some random junkie, Dean would have probably become sick himself just by the stench in the air and the mess on the floor. But this was his brother. This was Sammy. This was the little boy Dean had sworn to protect and keep safe from the day he was born onwards. The disgust he would usually experience just by the smell of vomit, was simply non existent now because all he could think about was the panic rising in his chest as he crouched down in his uniform, soiling his dark blue pants with the mess on the grounds forever, to touch Sam’s wrist, feeling for a pulse, praying that he was still there, that he was still with him._

He felt as if there were ants crawling underneath his skin and he was unable to resist the urge to scratch although he knew that it was nothing he could get rid of when he would start scratching anyway. It was a beast that was rearing its ugly head deep in his bowels, wanting out, wanting to rage, wanting to shed blood and rip every last person in his way to shreds until he would be out of this prison, until he would get his hands on the person who had ruined what his brother had achieved until now. The news was still so very fresh in his mind that it was hard to properly function and yet that was exactly what was expected of him. He was expected to do his work, he was expected to function while all he could think about was Sammy.

He had relapsed. That fucking idiot had relapsed while he was in prison for killing his drug dealer. How could he stay put in here when his stupid brother was out there destroying his life _again_?

»Hey, Winchester, how about you focus on your work?« A voice ripped him from his thoughts. »Or are you too busy thinking about sucking Castiel off?« It was just a stupid comment from one of the other fucked-up inmates, one of those assholes who had harassed him on a regular basis before word got around that he was fucking Castiel. No big deal, really. Yet, before that asshole with his yellow teeth and saggy eyes knew what was happening to him, his nose was broken and blood spilling down his face.

He wasn't even himself as he was attacking the other prisoner. The moment Tom staggered back and clutched his broken nose, Dean was on top of him once again, throwing down a couple of pots and pans he had been cleaning from the counter in the process. The monster had taken a hold of him and for once, Dean enjoyed this very moment and the sense of power he got from thundering his fist into the face of that asshole again and again. He couldn't even react fast enough to get Dean off or at least fight back as Dean had him pinned on the tiles of the kitchen floor in an instant. They were alone in the kitchen but Dean would probably not have cared even if there would be a bunch of people around.  

Blood was sputtering everywhere as Dean kept punching down on the man, drawing whimpers out of his throat but not even realizing what he was doing. No, that wasn't quite true. He was realizing what he was doing but he couldn't process it properly because otherwise, he would shrink back in horror. He was by no means a pacifist but he was not a violent man either - at least not without reason. Still, it just felt incredibly good to punch this asshole’s teeth out, to make him scream and whine and beg for him to stop it.

»Dean!« It was only the sound of this familiar voice that ripped him from his trance but before he could react on his own, strong hands had grabbed him under the arms and pulled him up and away from the man he attacked. His knuckles were bloody and he couldn't even tell if it was his blood or that of the other man who lay bloodied and apparently unconscious on the floor to his feet. His face was almost unrecognizable at this point. »Dean … What did you do?« The question would be easy enough to answer but Dean couldn't even untangle his thoughts anymore and before he knew it, Castiel had grabbed him by the forearm to pull him away from the man on the ground. His face was a bloody mess and the more clear part of his brain told him that he had probably broken most of the bones in his face - maybe even his skull. Fuck. »Come on, hurry!«

He wanted to stay and help, he wanted to own up to what he did to that guy but Castiel pulled at him so hard that he wasn't even able to do anything about it. The only choice that he had was to just follow him as quickly as he could because Castiel was right, the rational part of his brain chirped, he couldn't get caught in here - not if he didn't want to be thrown back into solitary again.

After they left the kitchen, there was just a second of pause on Castiel’s end, a moment when he looked back over his shoulder and seemed to see something Dean didn't because as Dean followed his gaze, there was nothing behind them. Together they hurried down the corridor and farther away from the kitchen to sink back into the hallway leading to the cells. It was now only a matter of mere minutes until someone would find what Dean had done but at least the guy had still been breathing as they left him. He couldn't deny that everything inside of him, everything that was still human about him, screamed to go back and help that man. He was someone who liked helping people - not hurting them. Yet, he knew that it would be beyond stupid to go back.

There was an unspoken rule in prison and that rule was the reason why he wasn't afraid that his victim would tell on him. This was how it worked in here. You don't tell on someone who wronged you. You get revenge. This was a concept that was foreign to Dean but it was what set his mind in this regard at ease.

It wasn't much of a surprise that, only half an hour after they reached their cell, the siren went off and guards started ushering all prisoners back into their cells. Lockdown. A crime happened and Dean’s stomach dropped. »Is this about Tom?« He found himself whispering to Castiel, who stood at the door of their cell to watch how the other inmates shuffled back inside their cells under the loud shouting and the still blaring siren.

»I don't know.« Castiel shrugged and cast a small glance over his shoulder towards him while not really looking at him.

»He was alive when we left.« This was Dean trying to calm himself down. This was Dean trying to reassure himself that he had not killed a man for no good reason.

»You put quite a number on him, though.« Only as the words had left Castiel's mouth, the young man seemed to realize the horror he was bringing to Dean with this remark and thus he was quick to backpedal. »I’m sure that’s about someone else.« Castiel jumped back from the door as one of the guards hit the wall beside him with a baton and just seconds later all doors were automatically shut and locked.

For a moment, Castiel lingered on the spot before, with a deep sigh, he turned around and slumped his shoulders. It was still early in the day and they would probably not leave their cell until the next day. He could see the unrestfulness of Castiel as the older man scratched his stubbly jaw and so Dean just patted the bed next to him so that he would at least sit down. Castiel, to not much surprise of his, complied.

»Why did you attack Tom anyway?« His voice was full of concern as he came to sit beside Dean and looked at him out of those owlish blue eyes, his head slightly tilted to one side as if Dean was the greatest enigma Castiel had ever faced in his lifetime. He really didn't want to talk or think about it. He couldn't bother himself again with the reality of the situation outside of this prison and already he felt the monster roar inside his chest again. He wanted to get up from the bed and pace around, maybe even destroy something but, as if Castiel knew what he felt, he placed a warm, calming hand on Dean's shoulder and that was all it took for Dean to slump in on himself a little only to rake his hand through his hair.

»Sammy relapsed.« He groaned. »I got the call today before I went to go clean up with Tom. Kate called and told me about it. This stupid idiot relapsed and I wasn't there to stop it.«

»You couldn't have stopped it anyway, Dean.« It was true and yet Dean didn't want to accept this. He should have been there. He should have been there to keep Sam from doing something as stupid as this. »He would have relapsed anyway, even with you around. He surely had a reason why he felt he needed the drug and even when you would have been there, he might have felt the need anyway.«

He knew that too. Heck, they had talked about Dean wanting to control his brother and everything he did. Heck, talk about control issues now. »I know.« He breathed. »I know … But I … How can I stay put when my brother is out there suffering?« He buried his fingernails hard into the fabric of his pants and was relieved by the pang of pain coming from the sensation. »It was always my job to protect Sam, you know? Adam too. I’m the big brother. Everyone expects me to be there and keep them from harm but now I am in here and I can't do anything. God, I hate being so powerless, Cas. What if he ... What if he overdoses again? What if I’m not there to find him next time?«

»You are torturing yourself, Dean.« His voice was soft though not without the gravel Dean was so used to by now.

»And you are bad at comforting people.« Dean huffed and leaned closer to Castiel without even knowing why he did. He had always been a very tactile person, that was not new, but this man was still a stranger and possibly very dangerous, not to mention part of the mob and the family Dean was tasked to find shit out about. Still, Castiel’s presence so close to him was calming, in a way.

»I know.« Castiel replied quietly. »That's what my brothers always said too.

He tried to find the humor in all of this, but he couldn't. His thoughts just kept wandering back to Sammy as they sat beside one another at a loss for words while the siren kept blaring through the prison.

 

**-End of Chapter 10-**


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some porn.

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

The lockdown was still ongoing as outside the world had decided to turn into a nightmarish wasteland straight out of an H. P. Lovecraft story, with thunder roaring loudly overhead and thick drops of rain slamming against the small, barred-up window of the cell. Dean was lying on his bed, turned on his side and Castiel rested beside him with his book in hand. He didn't quite know why he was lying next to him in that way too narrow bed but somehow it had seemed appropriate to both of them after the events of the day. It was cold inside their cell and so that was the excuse that they had both gone for, although it was way too obvious that it was just that, an excuse for them both. Dean was longing to be close to someone to rid his mind of the stress that was going on inside of his head after the news he had received earlier this same day. He could understand the turmoil raging inside of Dean’s mind and if he could, he would have tried his darndest to save him from that, but sadly, there was no way he could think of to distract the man that was resting beside him on his side, picking at the sheets absentmindedly. At least there was no way to distract him that he could think of that Dean would approve of.

It was true, Castiel felt drawn to the man beside him in more than one way. It was more than companionship or that he just innocently _liked_ Dean. He was only human, only a man and he had needs and Dean was not making it easy to remain composed around that blonde haired gorgeous looking man. Still, Castiel didn't wish to destroy their blossoming friendship with making a move on him. He didn't want to be just one of those guys in here who saw a nice piece of ass or a pretty face and lost their shit. Hell, he was really much too soft to be a Pellegrino.

He wouldn't say it to Dean, but Castiel knew that this lockdown was about Tom. There were certain things that Dean wasn't yet aware of and Castiel wanted to keep it that way. Until now, he hadn't seen the monster that was hiding inside of Castiel. It was true that he regretted Balthazar’s death deeply. Everything about that was true. It was also true that he was afraid for his children's safety. It was true that the thought that something could happen to either Claire and Jack paralyzed him to the core. But Dean was making a grave mistake in underestimating him. He had blood on his hands and a lot more than Dean Winchester could ever be made aware of. In the end, Castiel was not different from the rest of his family. He was indeed just one more monster.

As the lights went out without warning, Castiel bit back a groan and closed his book reluctantly to slowly swing his legs over the edge of the bed to get up. Even for someone as weird as he was - and yes, he was very aware of his general awkwardness around other human beings - it would be awkward to just stay in Dean’s bed now without a proper excuse. But it was Dean who suddenly grabbed his arm to hold him back. »Stay.« He mumbled and for a second there, Castiel was not even sure that he had heard him correctly. But, as he looked over his shoulder and down at Dean, he could make out the way he was looking up at Castiel in the dim lights coming from the hallway through the small window in their door, his lips parted ever so slightly as if he wanted to say something else but didn't know how exactly.

It was this exact moment as Dean was relieving the pressure on his arm, that Castiel decided to throw out every last bit of caution still ingrained in his mind once and for all. He leaned down to Dean within an instant, hovering just a second longer mere inches apart from Dean’s lips as if he had not already kissed the other man. This time, however, it was different, as Castiel’s lips came crashing down on Dean’s. This was not about an alibi or to prove anything to anyone else and he wouldn't lie, he was actually nervous if he had read the signs correctly.

There was only a slight moment of hesitation, a second or two where he wasn't sure if this was what Dean meant or wanted while a silent voice in the back of his mind told him that he shouldn't even care what Dean wanted. He was a Pellegrino and they took what they wanted without asking. Dean had invited him to stay in his bed, he had invited him to fuck him whether he knew it or not. He shouldn't care because he had not been raised to care about anyone but himself and his family. Yet, Castiel liked to pretend as if there was still a bit humanity left inside of him, that he was not just a monster like his brothers, that maybe there was at least a spark of goodness left inside of him. As the initial hesitation broke, however, it was Dean who pulled him in closer, it was Dean who demanded access to his mouth with his tongue, it was Dean who’s hands slipped right down to the waistband of his boxers. Their jumpers they had discarded hours ago already. The fabric was stiff and uncomfortable to sleep in, that was why most inmates preferred to sleep in their undergarments, plain white boxer shorts, and a white cotton undershirt - certainly not the sexiest attire but on Dean Winchester, everything looked good.

It was exactly this moment as he felt how Dean’s fingers started tugging on the waistband of his shorts, that Castiel threw even the last bit of restraint out of the very small barred up window as he buried Dean with his own body, their skin pressing together lightly. As the rain was drumming against the window and the thunder rumbling in the distance, their kiss grew sloppier and slower and Castiel could feel how Dean was melting into him, relaxing into the moment here with him, almost as if they were lovers and not just two prisoners who wanted to kill time and satisfy their needs, almost as if this would mean something in the long run although they both knew it wouldn't.

Dean was beautiful in every regard, even in the lingering half-light around them that was only disrupted by lightning crashing from the sky outside and Castiel knew that he couldn't blame all the other guys that were looking at Dean or jerking off when the blonde man was in the showers with them. He was god damn gorgeous and Castiel could only hope that prison would not change anything about that. Prison would ruin Dean in every way imaginable and Castiel was already afraid of the day he wouldn't recognize this man any longer. He was a good guy with a gentle heart and yet he let himself get devoured by a monster.

»Dean« He breathed hotly against his lips as he parted from him only for a second, but before he could voice his doubts, Dean had already grabbed Castiel’s right hand and was guiding it between their bodies, down-down-down southwards over his flat stomach and straight into his lap. He was already hard and that surprised even Castiel for a moment. He hadn't expected that.

»Talk less.« Dean groaned pressing his crotch closer to Castiel’s hand now as if everything that happened on this day was already forgotten - maybe that was the point.

Who was Castiel to refuse such a request? He was quick to remove the annoying undershirt from Dean’s body without much help from the ex-cop before he crawled down Dean’s body, his tongue slowly tracing the pecks of Dean’s abdomen, marveling at how firm his body felt in this very moment. Dean bucked against him, groaning with pleasure when Castiel bit gently, teasingly into his stomach. He was impatient, as he finally tucked at the waistband of Dean’s boxer shorts to get rid of them and to his surprise, it was again Dean who seemed all too eager to get them off of his legs as if the white cotton fabric was a personal affront to him.

Castiel used this moment to get back up and reclaim Dean’s mouth in one swift move as he felt Dean tugging impatiently on his boxers now as well to shove them off Castiel’s ass with the same amount of resentment for the piece of clothing that met its end on the floor beside their bed, followed quickly by Castiel’s own undershirt as they broke their kiss for just a second before their mouths melted back together. Their kiss was lazy, their tongues playing each other for dominance, neither one of them willing to give up so easily just yet. Then Dean broke the kiss, suddenly grabbing a hold of Castiel’s hips to pull him closer so that their bodies could meet and get some friction. Their cocks aligned, making them both moan with want. There was no lube, of course, but that was something that could be arranged in the future.

Before Dean could protest, Castiel had jammed his fingers into his mouth and though the younger man seemed surprised at first, and though Castiel could see a flicker of hesitation in his green eyes as all of this started to become just so much more real, Dean finally started licking his fingers, wetting them although he probably felt as if his mouth suddenly went dry because that was how Castiel felt watching Dean.

Dean’s breathing hitched when Castiel grabbed at Dean’s right leg to put it on his shoulder, finding a proper angle after he had pulled his fingers from Dean’s mouth to bring them to Dean’s entrance. If he wanted out, now was probably his last chance and yet, Dean didn't say anything. The young ex-cop didn’t even tense when the fingertips grazed at his most private part as if he was completely relaxed and trusted his cellmate with his body and heart, as if he was not in bed with a monster in this moment. He laid back in the pillows beneath him, trying to get more comfortable with this new situation and hissed softly when Castiel’s first finger breached him. The younger man arched his back, trying to get the intimate touch where he wanted it the most, on his swollen and oh so sensitive gland. He had not asked Dean if he had ever done something like this with another man but suddenly it seemed not too far-fetched to the mobster as he planted a kiss on the ankle on his shoulder.

It was this moment when Castiel knew that he was dreaming all of this because it was just too perfect to be true. Dean was too perfect. His long legs to inviting not to slither between them, the quickened rising and falling of his chest too tempting to resist kissing those full lips. As Castiel’s fingers found the prostate, Dean’s whole body was tensing, his back arching upwards in a heavy moan of which Castiel was certain their cell-neighbors could clearly hear through the paper thin walls. »Fuck!« Dean groaned out with not a care in the world for who might hear them. Apparently, he had learned his lesson and knew that it was wiser to be seen as his bitch than just a piece of fresh meat. Dean was strong, yes, that was without question and he had seen that he had been able to even go against Eldon Styne without much problem. He wouldn't have needed Castiel’s help and he was also very aware of that, yet, a man like Dean with a pretty face like his and such a big heart, would not survive on his own for too long.

»That's the general idea.« Castiel hummed against the soft skin of Dean’s calf before he sank his teeth into the leg that was resting on his shoulder, enjoying the moment as he saw how Dean’s toes curled ever so slightly. Dean was too far gone in pleasure at this time to answer, so he just pinched Castiel’s thigh, earning a little sound from the man in response.

»You should better behave.« Castiel warned with a playful groan, his own eyes shadowed with lust as he looked down at Dean, meeting those impossibly green eyes.

»Or what?« Dean panted heavily, already undone. »You gonna spank me, Angel?«

It would be fruitless to deny the slight shiver running down his spine at the sound of this nickname. Hell, did Dean even know how much he liked to hear Dean calling him that? No matter how big of a lie it was, no matter how out of place it was, Castiel enjoyed how Dean looked at him and the wings on his back and decided to call him an angel as if he really did not see the monster underneath his skin. »Maybe.« He huffed his response. He had to admit, it got harder and harder to resist him but the last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Dean in any way. For the first time in his life, someone seemed to trust him and that he didn't want to risk. »Although, I have a feeling you would enjoy that far too much.«

His own cock was so hard it hurt by now and as Dean spit in his right hand before grabbing Castiel’s member, for the first time Castiel realized just how long he had forgone sex altogether. Dean's hands were almost too much and not nearly enough at the same time, while Castiel was careful to scissor him open just enough, adding a second and third finger.

There was something utterly animalistic about the way Dean looked at him and the way he writhed on the mattress or the shamelessness he portrayed in this very moment of them melting into each other. And, truth be told, Castiel loved it. He loved every bit of it.

There was a groan ripping from Dean’s lips as Castiel pulled his fingers out, lazily wiping them on the bedsheets before he used his knees to spread Dean’s legs a little wider, finding his place between them as if he was meant to be there with the heel of Dean’s right foot digging softly in the skin right underneath his shoulder blade.

His erection grazed Dean’s right cheek, and the younger man was the one to slip a hand between their bodies to grab it and guide it inside him slowly but surely, almost as if he had already done that a thousand times outside of the prison. A shuddering breath tore from his cellmate’s mouth and Castiel was quick to swallow the sound whole as he pressed his lips down hungrily again but not allowing himself to stay put for too long before he let his lips wander down his neck again, sinking his teeth into the crook of Dean’s neck so hard he was sure Dean forgot about everything else. Though he couldn't be sure that this was a first for Dean, he wanted to give him time to get used to the feeling of being impaled by him and sure enough, it didn't take Dean long to let his right leg slip from Castiel’s shoulder only to wrap both his legs around his hips instead as if he wanted to get even closer.

He didn't ask Dean if everything was alright because he wouldn't get an answer anyway. Instead, Dean slightly bucked against him, urging him to slide deeper. Castiel moaned his content, and let his elbows dig into the mattress, boxing Dean’s head with his arms while stealing sloppy kisses from his panting mouth. He felt his cellmate relax completely, breathing with content against his lips, and only then he allowed himself to let go of any restraints. He slipped out of Dean completely, before slamming back inside in a single thrust. Dean moaned, suddenly on high alert as it seemed, letting his hand fall on Castiel’s shoulder only to snake it into Castiel’s tuft of black hair, grabbing tightly, almost pulling at his hair, while Castiel’s deep and fast thrusts were filling him in the most perfect way.

He did his best to hit his prostate with every movement and Dean couldn't stop moaning even louder now, not ashamed in the slightest of his body’s reactions towards another man. Surely they would earn themselves some looks came tomorrow but Castiel couldn't care less because this was what was expected from them anyway. Somehow Castiel managed to snake a hand between their impossible close bodies, getting a hold of Dean’s cock that was pressing into his stomach to jerk it in in rhythm with his thrusts, and Dean screamed his approval. As Dean threw his head back in the pillow and bared his throat at Castiel, it was almost impossible to resist him any further. Their next kiss was wet and messy, mostly because of the pace Castiel was keeping, and because of the moans leaving both their mouths. It was mostly tongue and teeth, their lips wet with saliva, but it was perfect and Castiel wouldn't want it any other way as he saw the beast inside the other man for the first time that seemed too similar to the monster lurking beneath the surface of his own mind.

No matter how Dean liked to portray himself to the others around him, this, right here, this was the real Dean - without restraints, without shame.

As Dean’s panting grew even heavier, he knew that he was close. There was no need for words because Castiel could feel it in the way his body tensed around him already. Castiel’s thrusts were more erratic now, and his own voice broke as he moaned louder than before. It was quite the sight to see Dean Winchester find pleasure and reach climax. Castiel decided that he loved everything about it. The way his most primal instinct was to thrust into Castiel’s hand just as it was his to keep thrusting fast and hold himself deep inside his lover when he was coming, leaving no space between their bodies, the utter bliss on his face, or how he screwed his eyes shut and curled his toes almost painfully. He loved how his body was shaking as Castiel came inside him with not a care in the world for protection or anything else that lay in the realm of decency.

It took them a lot longer to untangle their limbs afterwards but when they did, all they could do was fall down on the mattress in this way too narrow bed side by side, panting and not regretting this one bit while the thunderstorm outside had reached the prison and was raging with a ferocity that almost made Castiel grin a little.

※※※※※※※

Would someone ask him what had befallen him last night, he wouldn't be able to find a proper answer that was not borderline schizophrenic. It had been just all too much during the last day. The news of Sam’s relapse, his attack on Tom in the kitchen, the lockdown, not knowing if he had actually killed Tom with his attack. Maybe he had not been thinking straight, no pun intended, as he had invited Castiel to sleep with him later that same evening. And yes, he was very aware that _he_ had indeed invited him, and yes he was very aware that Castiel would not have made a move on him had _he_ not urged him to stay.

The whole afternoon during the lockdown while Castiel had been sitting next to him reading, he had watched him out of the corner of his eye. Castiel's presence in the bed had calmed his nerves quite a bit and yet he had been in no condition to read his own book in peace. His mind had been wandering all over the place, imagining all kinds of horrors while he lay there. Maybe that was one reason why he had slept with Castiel. He had known that he wouldn't have been able to sleep and had only hoped that fucking Castiel would tire him out enough.

His master plan had worked and as the next morning came and he had found himself tucked in neatly into Castiel’s arms, he had not regretted it one bit, oddly enough. It was Dean who woke up first that morning and found himself staring at Castiel’s sleeping face for a moment longer than necessary. He looked oddly peaceful in his sleep and a lot younger as he usually did, probably because he was not looking around with worried squinted eyes at the moment. To Dean, it was definitely a new experience to wake up in the arms of another man and though his ass hurt like a bitch, he had to admit that sleeping with Castiel had been quite the experience and one he wouldn't mind repeating.

It wasn't so much that Dean had never thought about sleeping with another man. He had never quite questioned his sexuality because he had never considered questioning it. He had never been opposed to or abhorred by the idea of possibly being bisexual either. It just … It had never been something he had thought about actively. Then again he was a sexual person and so it was not a big surprise that he could find pleasure in this way of having sex too.

Maybe he shouldn't think too much about it anyway. This was prison and it was probably just as Eldon said, none of the men were really gay, but they all had needs. Hell … What did it matter if he liked guys too or not anyway? No matter what, Castiel was damn gorgeous and he was a good guy - a good guy who was torturing himself for the death of his brother and oh how much could Dean understand him in this regard. Sammy was not dead and neither was Adam and yet Dean found himself torturing himself for what happened to Sam and that he had not been there to stop Sam from getting of tracks like this.

Sam had always been that snotty-nosed brat of which Dean had always feared he would stray from the right path sooner or later but he started to understand that he wouldn't have been able to do anything about it anyway. This was Sam’s life and he couldn't live it for him. Neither could he control him, as much as he would want to. Sam had to make his own mistakes in life, whether he liked that or not. Dean could only wonder if his father had felt the very same way when he had found Dean at that party he didn't even know about or later hanging over the toilet bowl and throwing up violently after his first time drinking and partying through the night with his friends. Needless to say, he had been vastly underaged at this moment and it was also needless to say that his father had whooped his ass later, after he had been done throwing up and after his father had been done rubbing soothing circles on his back whispering ‘my, my’ every so often.

»You are staring.« Castiel's voice ripped him from his thoughts and made him flinch. Since when were his eyes open?

»I just thought about my dad.« Dean was quick to change topic instead of answering Castiel and devoting any attention to what he said. »I remembered the first time I got violently drunk and threw up in the bathroom, actually.«

For a moment, Castiel’s expression was unreadable. He could see how the tiny cogwheels behind his forehead were turning frantically as if he was wondering what about their current situation could have possibly reminded Dean of that very experience and whether he should be affronted by it or not. »Was he mad?« Castiel finally asked instead of voicing the confusion that was plastered all over his face.

»You bet’cha.« Dean huffed a laugh, still lying close, still with his head on Castiel’s shoulder and his arm around his waist as if they were lovers and not locked inside a prison cell. »You know … I was fifteen. First time I ever went against his rules big time. My father was a fair guy and he never kept me on a short leash. He trusted me with all his heart and it was the first time I went against his rules. There weren't many rules for me in the house, though. Only: Don't drink before you’re twenty-one, come home when it's your curfew, don't get anyone pregnant. Needless to say I broke two rules that night. I mean I don't know what was in these drinks but, man, the room started spinning and I felt like I was gonna puke forever. And right about that time … it had to be at least two in the morning and I was supposed to be in bed for at least four hours already … I heard him. “Dean Winchester.” My old man. Believe me at that point, I was freaking out because he just stood there, not saying anything. I was looking around and everybody else started freaking out too. Nobody was even looking him in the eye. And finally, this one guy with sort of a safety pin through his nose and a “kill everything” tattoo looked up and he said “Sorry, Sir.”« He couldn't help but chuckle at that and noticed how even Castiel's lips twitched into a smile. »That was a real John Freaking Winchester, right there.«

»He saved you.« Castiel hummed gently.

»Yeah, he did.« He stopped for a second as he tried to remember every second of that god awful night and the following morning. »And when we got home in his car, I ran straight up to the bathroom to throw up and my dad was there, comforting me for an hour straight while I threw up, sat beside me, patted my back, held me while I was sick and made sure I was okay. Hell, I remember how he picked me up like a sack of potatoes and carried me into his bed to keep an eye on me through the night. It was the worst night of my life up until this point and Dad was there to get me through it. He even let me skip school the next day.«

»It sounds like he loved you very much.« Castiel quietly mumbled as if the concept was foreign to him and looking at his family history, it probably was.

»He did.« Dean breathed. There was not a question about that, really. His father had loved him with all his heart and he had loved Sam and Adam just the same. »And you know what he got for that? Me whining about how much he embarrassed me in front of all my new cool friends on that party. Me telling him that I hated him. All I could think about was that now these older kids would not invite me ever again to their weird-ass parties. I wanted so desperately to be cool at fifteen, y’know? But then my dad turned around, looked at me and said “Son, you don't like me, that's fine. It's not my job to be liked. It's my job to raise you right.” And that he did.«

He felt how Castiel was pulling him a little tighter at that and could only wonder what his cellmate was thinking about now. Was he thinking about his own children perhaps? They had to be around four years old now and he had not once seen them. Dean couldn't even imagine something like this. He had always dreamed of having a family of his own, having this apple pie life and that white picket fence, a little girl perhaps which he could protect from all the boys in the neighborhood and a little boy with whom he could play baseball or show him how to repair cars - which he would absolutely teach a daughter of his too because every girl should know stuff like this. He had dreamed of having this perfect little family, living in his old childhood home and raising his children there, his brothers living just a few houses down that same road with their own little families, having barbecues every goddamn weekend with all the kids playing in the garden.

»You loved your father very much.« It was not even a question at this point as Castiel spoke up again and Dean couldn't help but hum in agreement.

»I did. I do. We were a team, he and I. After Mom died in that car crash … It were just him and me with baby Sammy and a mountain of debts, and he … he was lost, y’know. He didn't know how to cope, didn't know how to raise two little boys all alone. He had lost his own parents early and grew up an orphan most of his life. My father was a tough guy, ex-marine and all that … But as Mom died he crumbled down completely, didn't shower, didn't eat, didn't sleep, didn't take care of us, drank every day and every night. I didn't understand him back then but I did what I could to help him, cleaned up after him, took care of Sammy, although I was only four years old. I think he never forgave himself for letting me down like this during this time. But I loved the old man and I always had his back even when Sammy grew into a bitchy teenager or when Adam decided it would be a great idea to bring all kinds of animals into our house.« He paused again for a second there, silently laughing to himself as he remembered how Adam once brought a fucking racoon into the house and let it loose. His dad had freaked out completely but in the end, after they had gotten rid of that thing, he and his father had sat on the back porch laughing their asses off about it, while Adam had been heartbroken that he couldn't keep his raccoon friend. »What about you?« He quietly turned to Castiel. »Did you have a good relationship with your father?«

»Can't say that.« Castiel huffed after a moment of hesitation. »I never really knew my father. He was distant, to say the least. We were all living in the same house but it was a place with at least one hundred rooms and I barely even saw my father, sometimes I wasn't sure if he was aware of my existence, sometimes I wasn't sure if he even knew what I looked like. It's funny, you know? My oldest brother, Michael … He hates my guts - and that is not an over exaggeration either. If he could, he would kill me, but he has this codex of sorts … He does not kill his own blood - not without a damn good reason. I’m behind bars and-« He stopped himself from spilling out something Dean already knew. He wanted to talk about Gadreel the brother of whom no one in prison knew that he was his brother. He could tell by the way he was looking away ever so slightly. »Anyway. Michael, he inherited everything as our father died but despite that, he always said that our father liked me the best, that I was his favorite. Of course, I never believed him. How could I? I never even really talked to my father.«

»I can't imagine a father being that cold and indifferent towards his children. I mean … You grew up in the house, after all.«

»I believe that it wasn't all on him, you know? My stepmother … She, well, let's say Michael clearly took after her. I was not her son, neither was Balthazar. We were the children of her husband's infidelity and he decided he wanted us in his life and took us from our mothers. Balthazar took after his mother quite a lot and tried his damndest to have a relationship with her but my mother died shortly after my birth. I never knew how it was to have a mother - or a father.«

»I’m sorry to hear that.« And this was not even a lie. How would Castiel have turned out had he had loving parents? Even despite the way he had been raised he seemed to be a good guy with a noble heart and honest intentions. The apple had clearly fallen far from the tree in Castiel’s case. »Every child deserves loving parents, sadly not every child gets what they deserve, right?« There was a hum of agreement as Castiel pressed a kiss to his temple. Maybe now was the moment Dean had been waiting for, he thought to himself. He couldn't forget his mission. »But you had your brothers, right? You were close to Balthazar.«

»I was … I would say he was my favorite brother.« Castiel murmured and this alone seemed to make it all so much sadder and before Castiel could fall deeper into this newly opened pit, Dean spoke up again.

»So … How many brothers do you have? Five, right?« Now was the moment of truth. Would Castiel lie to him? Would he tell him about Gadreel? Did he trust him enough to do so and if that would be the case would he tell Dean about his family’s crimes? Would he agree to work with the FBI?

»Six, actually.« Castiel finally sighed. »I’m the youngest, before you ask.«

»What happened to the sixth? He didn't die, did he?« He really was not the type of person who liked to mislead people like this. He didn't like to act like he wouldn't already know some deep dark secret just so that the other person wouldn't know and wouldn't ask how he came to his knowledge. But in this case, sadly, it was very necessary.

»No.« Castiel replied hesitantly before he suddenly sat up on the bed. He seemed uncomfortable and fidgety all of the sudden and all Dean could do now was to pray to god that he would get a few minutes more before the lights would be switched on and the doors opened. »No, he’s not dead.«

Of course, it came as it had to as the prison came to life just in that moment before Dean could ask further questions and Castiel was suddenly much too eager to get up completely and get dressed. It would be fruitless to try and hold him back, that Dean already understood, so instead he dropped back on the bed to stare at Castiel’s mattress for a second before his gaze shifted to Castiel’s back again. He liked seeing how his muscles worked as he got dressed in front of him. At least he had chosen someone as good looking as Castiel to be his first gay experience. He should congratulate himself for that.

It was only about an hour later that Dean found himself sitting in the cafeteria at a table with Benny again, not Castiel. Not that he would mind … Castiel had an image to uphold, after all. »You heard what happened to Tom?« Benny asked as he sat down across from Dean with his tray. The thought of later picking up his kitchen duty again made his stomach turn already and he did his best to look oblivious as he raised his eyes to Benny.

»No, what happened?« Dean asked munching on his toast although his stomach rebelled against it.

»He was killed yesterday, that was the reason for the lockdown.«

Dean almost choked on the bite of toast at that and only regained control over his voice after an agonizing long coughing fit. »Killed?«

»Yeah! Crazy stuff, man!« Benny laughed. »The guards decided it was an accident but … Fuck, I mean you work in the kitchen, right? So how likely is it that one of those fucking huge pots just falls on top of a guy - especially when filled to the brim with boiling water?«

»What?«

»Yeah! He was found under one of these pots, his skin burned so bad it peeled from his face, Dude. Real horror show!« If Benny really felt something akin to horror, he didn't show it but rather laughed a little as if that had been the most amusing thing ever while Dean could only feel how his heart was sinking into his kneecaps. Tom was dead. Had he killed him, though? Had he succumbed to his injuries? Or hat he tried to get back up and somehow managed to get that pot to fall on him? It would be his fault had it happened like this, there was no question about it.

Suddenly he didn't feel so hungry anymore as he rose from his spot on the bench slowly.

»Hey whats up, Deano? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!« He laughed but Dean felt as if he was going to throw up would he stay even a second longer now. As he opened his mouth to say something, he caught a glimpse of Castiel only a few tables away staring right back at him with the same unreadable expression he liked to wear so very often. Suddenly, he couldn't help but think about what he had heard about Castiel before from Benny and how his former cellmates had been brutally killed. Had Castiel something to do with Tom’s death? But no, that wasn't possible. They had been together, after all!

Finally, Dean left the cafeteria without holding himself back again, leaving behind only a highly confused Benny calling after him to no avail. Sure enough, Dean was followed outside of the cafeteria but he didn't turn around, not even as he heard the footsteps that were hurrying after him on his way back to the cells. Only when Castiel was close enough to grab him by the arm to stop him, did Dean whirl around with fury in his eyes. »Tom is dead!« He hissed.

»Yes … Yes, I know.« It was clear to see that Castiel was taken aback by his sudden outburst as if he really didn't know why Dean reacted the way he did, as if it was not only natural for him to react this outraged. Sometimes this man really was an alien. »Why are you so angry?«

»Because I killed him!« He whispered and now it was on Cas to look over his shoulder in alert before he pulled Dean along back to their cell and shoved him inside.

»No, you didn't!« Castiel was quick to reply in a hiss that should probably shut him up and yet only provoked the opposite to happen as Dean felt his stomach churn and his blood boil.

»Then why is he dead?« Dean growled. »Tell me, Cas!«

»Because _I_ took care of it!« It finally just spilled out of Castiel as he still held onto Dean’s shoulders in a tight grip but dropped his eyes to the floor.

»No, you didn't! We were together the whole time! He died because I beat the crap out of him!«

»No, he didn't.« Castiel finally sighed and it was such a defeated sound that Dean was the one taken aback now suddenly feeling very sober. »Gadreel was the one who ended his suffering and made sure that it would look like an accident - or at least made sure that no one would suspect you. He would have probably died anyway, you put quite a number on him.«

»What?« He breathed and his mind started racing once again as he tried to wrap his head around how this could have happened. How the hell was it even possible that Gadreel had been involved if Castiel had not left his side for a second after he had found Dean in the kitchen over Tom? This was ridiculous! »How?«

»He was there … as I found you.« Castiel began quietly and dragged a hand through his dark messy hair. For once he did not look at Dean and yet he could see that his blue eyes were haunted. »When we got out of the kitchen, he was standing at the end of the hallway … When I dragged you away, I gave him a sign.«

»You … what?« His breathing hitched in his throat and he felt like the greatest idiot because of it. »Why?«

»Because I didn't want you to get in trouble!« Castiel then spat and finally looked at him again. The look in his eyes was sincere and there was no question about the fact that he was telling the truth despite the fact that it had to have been the biggest coincidence in history that Gadreel had appeared at the end of that hallway just at the right moment. »Tom would have been questioned and he might have ratted you out! Tom was a rat, Dean! True to form! I couldn't risk you getting in trouble!«

»But why would Gadreel do something like this for me?« He could feel his heart picking up speed again because now was the moment he had been waiting for. Would Castiel finally spill the beans about Gadreel or would he continue to lie?

»Not for you, for me.« There was hesitation visible on his face and he could sense just how much effort it cost Castiel to uphold the eye contact with Dean.

»Why?«

»Because he is my brother.«

 

**-End of Chapter 11-**


	12. Chapter 12

**Valley Hope of Atchison, Kansas**

It was odd how a lively place that was usually filled with people like the Valley Hope of Atchison could suddenly become one of the quietest and lonely places on earth as Christmas rolled around. Everyone seemed to have left the house to go visit family and friends. Of course, not everyone had left but it damn well felt like it because the few others that were still here with him were keeping to themselves, beaten down by the holidays quite a bit. Sonny had offered him to leave too so that he would spend time with his family, but in the end, Sam had decided to stay where he was. What would he do at home anyway? The house he had grown up in, which now belonged to Dean after their father’s death, was empty and lifeless with no one around but the memories of better days. Kate had invited him to stay with her and Adam over the holidays, just like Bobby had done too and yet, he could not bring himself to take them up on their invitations.

He didn't feel like they really wanted him around. Kate did her best to make him feel like he still belonged to their family but Sam knew better than to believe it just like this. Adam’s words to him had been pretty clear. No, he rather stayed here by himself, as sad as this might be. Maybe it was better this way. He was still in the midst of getting better after relapsing. He didn't want to endanger his betterment in leaving this facility. Out there, in the real world, waited too much temptation for him to deal with. He could see himself giving in to the temptation as he would be sitting in the empty living room of his family’s home, looking at the old photographs and wondering how all of this could have ever gone so wrong in the first place. How could he have ever given into Ruby and what she had to offer him? Had his father not raised him right? Had Dean not been there enough for him? No. This was on him. All of it was and no one knew this better than Sam himself. He could not shift the blame of anyone in his family. It wouldn't be right. This was on him.

He had had a lovely childhood, a nice, warm home, a loving family and everything he could ever wish for, despite the hardships they had gone through. That was the truth and yet despite all of this, he had lost his way and he couldn't even say why. Maybe he had been bored. Maybe that was it. He had been bored by how nice everything seemed to be. He had been bored by Jessica and this perfect life he was building for the both of them. Thinking about it that way made it just all so much worse because it meant he had been nothing more than a petulant child as he had ruined his family and his life.

As the night before Christmas came, he found himself sitting in the living room of the almost completely deserted rehab facility in front of the fireplace. Even Sonny had left earlier this day and would only be back on Monday to spend Christmas with his family. The only other faces he would see were the handful of other patients that usually kept to themselves anyway and the housekeeper that would come in tomorrow morning. He couldn't blame him. Spending so much time around junkies had to be draining for sure. Sonny could need a time out for sure after so many months with junkies and otherwise lost causes like Sam.

Still, as he sat in front of the crackling fire, he wished that at least one person would be here to talk to. Even if it would be Meg. At first, he hadn't understood her modus operandi and as he had finally grasped that it had been her plan to get him to relapse all along, he had wished the worst fate on her for certain. His family surely had been disappointed with him, but of course, they had been all too eager not to show their disappointment too much. Kate had called every now and again to make sure that he was alright and Sam had wanted nothing more than to scream at her through the phone that she should stop being so nice and understanding, that, for once, she should scream at him and tell him what a failure he was, how much of a disappointment he was for his entire family. She wouldn't do that, of course, and neither would Bobby.

Oh, how much he wished they would stop treating him like a raw egg. How much he wished they would finally be honest and show him their disappointment and anger. He could deal much better with raw emotion than feigned understanding.

What would Dean say? Surely, he knew about his relapse. Surely, Kate or Bobby or _someone_ had called Dean to tell him what happened. Surely, his brother, if he knew about it, had been freaking out completely. And Adam? What about him? How had he reacted to that news about his stupid big brother? He wondered if Kate was working tonight and if his brother might be alone. He remembered their last Christmas together as a family, how they had been laughing over the Christmas dinner of delivery service pizza and some odd Christmas movie on the TV.

Back when he was a child, they used to snuggle up on the couch together, watching movies until they would have fallen asleep and then his dad had carried them up into their rooms one by one and put them to bed. Every year, he and Dean had wanted to stay up to catch Santa during the act but they had never succeeded. Later, Adam had tried the same thing every year. Some things just never changed … and oh, how he wished they hadn't changed. How he wished he would wake up and find himself lying in his childhood room in his bed after his father had put him to bed, the smell of scrambled eggs and bacon wafting up from the kitchen through the entire house and when he would walk downstairs, he would find his big brother at the stove, humming some rock tune to the radio and gently wiping his right foot to it.

It was easy to get lost in this fantasy after he had switched on the TV that was hanging over the fireplace. Some stupid Christmas movie was running but Sam couldn't bother to focus on it, not when his imagination was offering him so much more relief than this stupid movie ever could. Sam hadn't even realized that he had fallen asleep later as he was shaken awake by the sound of the doorbell ringing. His eyes flew to the clock over the living room door in confusion. It was half past eleven and outside the night was black like ink with only the full moon shining brightly down on the garden behind the house which Sam could see through the window front to his left-hand side. His first thought was that Sonny might have come back because he didn't trust Sam enough to let him stay here all by himself. But why would he ring the doorbell? He was done disappointing people, so he slowly got up from his spot on the couch, ruffled a hand through his hair and walked out of the living room just as the doorbell rang a second time.

»Coming!« He called before a yawn made it impossible for him to speak again as he was slowly shuffling down the hall, making his way slowly but steadily towards the front door. Were the others already asleep? Last time he had seen the remaining other patients were when they had gathered in the kitchen earlier tonight. None of them had felt like cooking so they had ordered pizza instead, the rest of which was still lying in the kitchen. After that, they had all retreated to their own rooms and since then, Sam hadn’t heard a thing of them. The thought came to mind that it might not be the best idea to open that door in the middle of the night when he didn't even know who was waiting for him on the other side. Then again, he had nothing left to lose now anyway, had he? If there was an ax-wielding psycho on the other side of that door, well, he probably deserved it.

However, as Sam finally reached the door and opened it before his unannounced guest could ring the bell a third time, he did not find an ax-wielding psycho on the other side but was confronted with light blue eyes peeking up from under a dark hood at him. »Adam?«

※※※※※※※

**Lawrence, Kansas**

The house was empty and silent, almost as if there weren’t people living inside these walls at all. His mother had left him an hour ago after a hailstorm of apologies directed at him. She had to take the night shift because her colleagues had called in sick for the next few days which was hardly a surprise, really. No one wanted to work at Christmas but his mother was the head nurse and so she didn't have much of a choice. Maybe she was even quite glad that she was able to get out of the house and away from her brooding moody teenage son. Ever since he had heard of Sam’s relapse, Adam had been in a terrible mood and no one seemed to understand why either. No one seemed able to get behind what he was thinking and why he was in such a bad mood all the time. Still, the thought that his outburst towards his big brother might have tributed to his relapse wouldn't leave him alone. He was sure that, had he not said these things to his brother that Sam might have had himself better under control and that he might have been a little stronger in all of this.

He was still angry with Sam for everything that happened this year, he still couldn't quite stand him, let alone talk to him. But thinking that he might have been the reason why his brother had relapsed, thinking that his words might have hurt him so much that he hadn’t seen any other way, was horrible, even in this tense situation.

He hadn't visited his brother ever since. His mom had. She had called him quite a lot too, making sure he was doing okay, making sure he was not killing himself over his guilt or over the stupid things his younger brother had told him in a fit of anger. He knew that Sam had had a hard time getting clean again, that his detox had been even worse than the first. And, if he was honest, he had thought about him a lot these past two months. The thought of his brother, how he might have screamed his lungs out in agony, had kept him up at night. To know that he had caused his brother so much pain … and not for the first time either.

Sam didn't know it, but Adam had witnessed his first withdrawal at the hospital after his overdose. Dean hadn't wanted him to see their brother like this, but Dean had already been in investigative custody at the time and Adam had needed to see it for himself. He would never forget seeing Sam in so much pain. No matter how much he had hated him in that moment, seeing his older brother in so much pain, bound to a bed and screaming for their oldest brother and for their father, stuck with him.

He had done so much wrong and still he was blaming his brother for everything although Sammy was not even half as awful as Adam was. Maybe that was why he didn't fight back much against his bullies at school, he wondered as he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. He had always been pale and skinny but these days he hardly recognized himself and his mother were beyond worried, but she was always so stressed that she didn't find much time to address the state her son was in. The bags under his eyes were hard to overlook at this point, he looked even scrawnier than ever before, his cheeks hollow, his eyes dull and lifeless. He was just a shadow of his former self. Gone was the happy-go-lucky boy who play wrestled with his older brothers in the living room over the remote control for the television until their father would intervene or until one of them would give up. Everything was broken.

Adam’s thoughts were with his brothers at all times these days. The first thing in the morning he wondered about was if on this day they would receive the message that Sammy had relapsed again, that Sammy had overdosed again, that Sammy had died. The first thing in the morning he wondered about was if on this day they would receive the message that Dean had been killed in prison because he used to be a cop. And those thoughts accompanied him through the day until he would pass out in his bed or sitting in front of his laptop. His grades had fallen dramatically and his mother, though she tried to be understanding, was at her wit's end by now. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to help him. She couldn't. No one could. The only person who could help him was behind bars.

The house was uncomfortably silent. At home, where he had grown up, it had never been this quiet. Not because there had always been someone there with him, but because the house was old and creaky and never felt truly empty. His mother’s house was fairly new, the interior design modern and almost sterile and orderly to the point where there was no chance of ever finding something being out of place while at home one could have found a stray cup of coffee on nearly every surface around the house. They hadn’t been messy, but they had been a house full of guys. The difference was perhaps just that John Winchester’s house had felt like a home and his mother’s didn't. He felt a chill running down his spine as he walked downstairs and shortly paused in the hallway where his mother had put up all the family photos she had. His eyes were instantly drawn to one of his father. He was wearing his baseball gear and laughing over his entire face. Such an honest expression, such a rich sound that Adam thought he could still hear it sometimes when he would think about it hard enough. He found himself taking it down from the wall and a few moments later he collected another one which showed his father, his brothers and him sitting around the Christmas tree. His mother had taken the picture on that Christmas morning and Adam couldn't be older than four of five and was handling a toy truck that Dean had bought for him with Sammy insisting that it was from the both of them.

Oh, how he wished it would all still be like this. How he wished he would just wake up in his bed in his room in the house he had grown up in and when he would walk downstairs he would find Dean at the stove, humming in tune with some rock song that was playing on the radio, tapping his foot in the right rhythm or even dancing a little when he thought no one would see him. He wanted nothing more than to go back to that time in their life when Sam would come home from college every weekend with a sack of clothes that needed a wash only to have Dean frown over his baby brother but still wash his clothes nonetheless.

When he closed his eyes and focused on days like these, he could still hear Dean scolding his brother for his inability to visit the washing salon down the street from his dorm to wash his own clothes and Sam how he complained that it was easier and cheaper this way because he knew, after all, that Dean did the laundry on the weekends. And his big brother, although still throwing some insults at Sam, had added Sam’s clothes to the pile with a twinkle in his eyes every time. He missed seeing that twinkle in Dean’s green eyes or the cocky grin on Sam’s face and he was afraid that, when Dean would get out of prison, the life behind bars would have robbed him of that humor that was so very much Dean Winchester.

As he walked back down in the living room with the photographs pressed against his chest, the decision to leave came swiftly. He didn't know exactly why he came to the conclusion that he couldn't stay here tonight, but as he saw the Christmas tree in the living room that Bobby helped buy and set up a few days ago,  he just knew that he had to go, that he couldn't spend the night alone in this house that was so unfamiliar to him although he knew it so well. For a single second longer, he lingered in the doorway to the living room, staring at the tree with it's blinking lights and the presents that were lying underneath. There was nothing his mother could give him that he would want anyway. His mother couldn't give him what he really needed. So, with one swift move, he grabbed his backpack next to the coat rag, put the photographies inside, grabbed his coat from the rag and left the house quickly before he could rethink his decision.

The way out of Lawrence and up to Atchison took him over an hour with his mom’s car. Luckily, his mother had taken the bus to work today. The hospital was not too far away anyway. Adam usually didn't take his mother’s car too often but tonight he had no other choice. For a taxi he was too cheap and going to Atchison with public transport would be just the biggest pain in the ass.

As he arrived one hour later and pulled into the parking lot to the side of the rehab facility that was surrounded by trees, Adam Winchester found himself pausing for a second there to just stare a the large house. He didn't even know if he was allowed to come here outside of the visitation days or if anyone except his brother was inside this building. He didn't know if Sam would even want to see him. After all, because of Adam, he had relapsed. Because Adam hadn't been able to keep his stupid mouth shut. There was no way he would ever rid himself of that guilt again.

As he leaned against his mother’s car he wondered if he shouldn't better turn around and leave this place again. His brother surely wouldn't want to see him. Hell, what did he even think he would get out of this whole situation? Even if Sam would open the door for him, even if he would allow him inside, it would be beyond awkward between them for sure. There was no way around this awkwardness, no way that his brother and he would start talking and getting along again. Heck, Adam didn't even know if that was what he wanted in the first place or why he had decided that he had to go visit Sam today. Maybe he was just being sentimental because it was Christmas eve and it was the first time that either one of them was alone on these days. His heart bled for Dean alone in prison during the holidays.

No one should be alone at Christmas, especially not in prison, especially not the best big brother in the world. But since there was nothing he could do about that for Dean, the least he could do was to walk up the path to the front door and face his brother Sam. Dean wouldn't want Sammy to be alone. Sam and Dean had always been an item and more often than not had Adam been a little jealous of their close relationship. Then again, Dean was eleven years older than him so Sam and Dean had been together a lot longer than Adam and his big brothers. They had much more history together, they had gone through the worst time of their lives together. And still, even though Adam had sometimes questioned it, by now he knew without a fault that Dean Winchester would do absolutely everything for him and that he didn't make a difference between his younger siblings.

As he reached the door, his heart was racing ninety miles per hours in his chest and yet he forced himself to press down on the doorbell.

※※※※※※※

**Valley Hope of Atchison, Kansas**

He wouldn't lie, his first instinct had been to pull his little brother into a bone-crushing embrace as he the realization struck him that it was indeed Adam on the other side of that door. He stopped himself before he could make the situation any more awkward, however. He knew that Adam would probably not react too friendly to a hug from his older brother, not the way their relationship was at the moment.

»Why are you here?« He finally found himself asking after he led his brother inside and out of the cold that was lingering outside, and into the living room. They had left his brothers thick coat on the coat rag in the entry hall with Adam only pulling his backpack along with him. Had his brother driven all the way out here by himself? Of course, Adam was not that bad of a driver. He had learned from Dean, after all, just like Sam had. He still remembered his first driving lesson with his big brother. He had been terrified but his father had cheered them on from the porch, his leg in a cast after an accident in the car repair shop earlier that same month.

»Let's make one thing clear, okay?« Adam suddenly addressed him very sharply instead of answering him right away before he sat down with Sam, the television still running in the background and providing a nice backdrop for their conversation. »I’m not here because I forgave you for what you did or because I feel sorry for what I said to you last time. I still think that you are a spoiled brat who threw away his future and destroyed everything we had, but I think that no one should be alone on Christmas, especially not out somewhere in the middle of nowhere - not even you.« His brother’s words were harsh, maybe even cruel, but that was just Adam and he had expected nothing less. Not after their last altercation a few months ago.  

»I feel honored.« Sam huffed but tried to bite back the snark in his voice. His first impulse was to start a fight with his brother, of course, and yet he knew that this would be the worst thing he could possibly do. Adam was rightfully angry and he was right that he was not forgiving Sam for what he had done to his family. He didn't deserve forgiveness from his family. Still, Sam felt that he had suffered enough, hadn't he? No, he reminded himself. That was only the spoiled brat in him speaking, just like Adam said. The same spoiled brat that had decided it would be a great idea to start taking drugs with Ruby and cheat on his girlfriend.

»I won't lie to you, Adam.« He found himself sighing as he flopped down on his usual spot on the way too soft green couch and grabbed one of the pillows to close his arms around as if he needed the additional comfort. For now he didn't wish to think about whether he was allowed to have a visitor up here in the house so late at night and outside of the visitation days, or if it would be okay for Adam to stay the night. No matter if it was okay or not, he would not send his baby brother away again. »I'm glad you came.« He pushed the words out with a breath, keeping his voice calm and quiet before looking up at Adam through his fringe, unsure of his younger brother’s reaction.

»Mom wondered why you didn't want to come.« It sounded like an accusation and Sam wouldn't be surprised if it was. He had probably hurt Kate with this rejection of her invitation just like Bobby. However, Bobby, unlike Kate, knew him enough to know that it was nothing personal, that he just needed to be alone - although, as it had turned out tonight, he didn't want to be alone.

»I didn't think you would want me there.« Sam confessed still keeping his voice calm as to not anger his brother or make him think he was accusing him of anything as Adam finally sat down on the couch next to him.

»True.« Ouch. That actually hurt. His brother’s blunt honesty was something he had never been able to handle too well, unlike Dean, who had usually shrugged Adam’s anger and temper tantrums off with remarkably dignity and composure, much like their father had. No matter how viciously Adam or Sam had attacked Dean in the past, no matter how hurtful they had insulted him in the past, Dean had always kept a level head with them, always remaining calm, with his hands on his hips, waiting for their tantrums to weigh off before speaking to them. »But you are still my brother. You are still family and the holidays are all about fighting with the people we love. That was what Dean always said.«

Sam found himself smirking at this. Adam didn't even know how similar he was to Dean. Their little brother had always taken after Dean quite a lot, idolized him to no end. Sure, he had been looking up to Dean too while growing up, but between him and Dean had always been a certain sense of brotherly rivalry too. He hadn't wanted to be like Dean, he had wanted to be his equal and to not be seen as a baby by him. Sam was much more like their late father, especially when it came to their stubbornness. Adam, however, had always been like a mini version of Dean, the only thing setting them apart were Adam’s blue eyes.

They fell into a moment of silence when they just sat side by side on the couch and stared at the TV that was still on. He didn't know what to say or do, really. Just to know that Adam had been brave enough to make a step towards him was enough for the moment. The fact that Adam had come here was to Sam a sign that there might be hope for them as a family still, hope that his brother might forgive him one day.

»Thank you, Adam.« Sam mumbled quietly as he glanced over at his brother. »For coming.« There was no need for either one of them to say it. Sam knew that they both felt equally lost during these past months. They both lost their way in some form or another, they were both lost without their family. Adam didn't say anything, but the way he pressed his lips into a thin line told Sam far more than his brother could ever express with words and so he just reached over and pulled him against his side without accepting any form of protest. »I know.« He whispered quietly. »I miss them too. I miss them so much.«

»It sucks.« Adam bit out and his voice sounded strained to even offer these few syllables.

»Yeah … It does. It sucks.«

※※※※※※※

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

The atmosphere behind bars was even worse now during the holidays. everyone seemed to be on edge as Christmas rolled around. Quite a few people were getting visits from their loved ones but the rest was a brooding angry bunch of cavemen. The assault rate had been rising with each day towards Christmas and if there was not a damn good reason to leave one’s cell, it was best to just stay inside and ignore the fighting and shouting outside on the hallways. Outside the world was buried under a thick blanket of perfect powdery white snow and Dean spent most of his days playing checkers with Castiel in their cell. It was either that or they would fuck - whatever would help them kill some time. To Dean it was still a bit odd, maybe even outright fascinating how easy it was for him to sleep with another guy ever since that first night they had shared. In retrospect, he still didn't know what made him invite Castiel in on that very night in October, but he didn't regret it one bit until now. Maybe he had just felt lonely, maybe he had just wanted to feel a connection to someone, maybe it had been his overly active hormones acting out again. Or maybe he had unconsciously thought that there wouldn't be a better way of getting closer to a Pellegrino and wrap him around his finger too.

Ever since Castiel had spurted out the big reveal that Gadreel was his brother and thus one of the people Dean had to talk to if he wanted to offer Agent Mills something to work with finally, they hadn't talked about their family relations again. Castiel didn't seem willing to discuss his family ties with Gadreel in any way. Whatever happened between the brothers had been bad quite awful, apparently, painful even and until now Dean couldn't make out if Gadreel was angry at Castiel or if it was the other way around.

Still, now that he knew maybe he could use that to his advantage in his endeavor. What if he could get both Pellegrino brothers to help him? He stole a glance at Castiel at this thought but the angel seemed too focused on their stupid little boardgame to notice. That was at least what Dean thought at first.

»Do you miss your family?« Castiel quietly broke the silence between them all of the sudden, his blue eyes still remaining on the pieces on the board that they had set up on Dean’s bed between them, his forehead slightly furrowed as he was thinking about his next move. It was the twenty-fifth of December and still early in the day. His first Christmas without his family. His first Christmas without sitting in his boxers on the carpet of the living room with his brothers, unwrapping gifts like they were still just a bunch of kids and their father preparing breakfast for his hungry pack of wolves.

»Yes.« He replied honestly and with not a bit of shame for feeling the way he felt. »Yes, I do. I miss them like hell.« These days it was especially bad and Dean could understand the other inmates too. In a few years, he would be one of them, rioting and picking fights out of pain. It was nothing more than this. Being locked away from his family during the holidays was pure pain. He couldn't keep the worries at bay either. Was Sam doing okay? Was he celebrating with Kate and Adam or at least with Bobby and his wife? Was he alone? Was Adam alone? He could only hope that they were together.

»So you always celebrated together?« It almost sounded surprised out of Castiel’s mouth but judging by what Dean had learned about his family until now, that really wasn’t that big of a surprise.

»Yes. Sammy…« He paused before he continued with a small chuckle as he stole another piece from Cas from the board, much to his dismay. He was winning again. »Sammy … When he left for college he told us we should not expect him to be around for Christmas that same year, that he would probably spend it with Jessica, his girlfriend at the time, and their friends from college somewhere in the mountains or so. I just laughed at him. This was just such a Sam-thing to say. He always made plans long in advance, not knowing if he would even have friends in college or still be with Jessica.«

»And?«

»And what?«

»Did he spend that Christmas in the mountains with his friends and girlfriend?«

»No.« Dean laughed. »Of course, not.«

»Because he didn't have friends.«

»No. He was very popular and he would have had the chance to have a wild orgy in the mountains too. But he chose to come home. He was terribly homesick after two weeks in the dormitory. Two weeks, Cas. We saw him a lot more than we did as he still lived at home!« He chuckled. »Adam was not delighted to say the least. After Sam left, Adam annexed his old room because it was bigger than Adam’s but it became a fight whenever Sam came home to us. Huh … Good times.« Again he stopped as he clung to these thoughts for a little while longer. He could still see it all play out in front of his very eyes. »What about you? Do you miss your family?«

»No.« The answer came a lot quicker than Dean would have expected. There was not even a moment of pause indicating that he thought about the question at all. His answer came out of instinct. »I only … I miss Balthazar.« Castiel admitted quietly with remorse dripping from his voice. »Maybe even Gabriel.«

»Stop torturing yourself, Cas.« He found himself whispering and extended his hand to brush his fingers over his cheek. They were no lovers, they were not a couple, they were not even friends. Still, it was easy being close to him, it was easy to touch him. He liked touching Castiel and he liked being touched by Castiel. »Balthazar would surely not want you to torture yourself.«

»My brother was quite spiteful. He could hold a grudge for years. I stole a chocolate bar from him once when I was four years old and he wouldn't talk to me for over a month until I repaid him with two chocolate bars and half of my allowance. Of course, in addition to that, I had to do his chores and call him Master for two additional months.« Castiel scoffed but with a small grin and it was this what finally prompted Dean to risk it.

»What about Gadreel?« He could see how Castiel tensed up right away but Dean quickly continued as Castiel kept his eyes focused on the stupid board game as if in fear of meeting Dean’s eyes. »I mean … What I mean is … Your brother is here, Cas. Alive.«

»Gadreel … We were never close.« It sounded like a lie and Castiel seemed aware of that because he was all too eager to move forward. »Dean … I was never like my brothers. I was never one of them. I never wanted to be one of them. But there is not much of a choice, not in a family like mine, Dean. I did … horrible things. I didn't want to do them. I always wanted to heal and to help, not to butcher and steal. But Gadreel … Gadreel was different. He knew no remorse for what he did. Gadreel was Michael’s bloodhound and Michael pointed him in the direction he wanted. There were no questions asked. He would go and rip those apart who Michael despised and he wouldn't make a difference between men and women, adults or children. It's true what I said, Gadreel is dangerous and he has killed many. Had he not killed his wife and unborn child … He wouldn't have ended up in here.«

»But why didn't Mike help him? Or you? Surely, Michael could have gotten his brothers out of trouble.«

»He could have. But thats one of his rules. As soon as we fuck up and endanger his good name, we are dead to him. Of course, that only held true for Gadreel, Balthazar and me because we are not worthy of the name Pellegrino in his eyes. We were but pawns in Michael’s game.« There was definitely pain swinging in his voice as he spoke about Michael and his hatred of his half brothers.

»You actually hate Gadreel, do you?« Dean gently coaxed as he ended their game in taking Castiel’s last piece away, but his eyes met those of the other man again as he did when Castiel finally looked up at him.

»Yes. I despise him.« The answer was silent and again, Castiel betrayed himself.

»No, you don't.« Dean sighed. »You loved him very much at one point, otherwise you wouldn't be so full of resentment now. You can only hate a person when you loved them at one point and when you still feel for them. Hatred is not the opposite of love, Castiel, indifference is. But you do not feel indifferent to Gadreel, I can see that. You despised his actions but not him. You trusted and loved him and that's why you can't forgive him.« Castiel rose from his spot on Dean’s bed at once as if he had been hit with electroshocks just for sitting on Dean’s bed. There was a moment of silence stretching out endlessly between them as their eyes remained locked and Dean knew that he had hit a raw nerve. He looked like a deer in the headlights of an upcoming truck and Dean understood that it wasn't even what Gadreel may have done to his wife or in Michael’s name that Castiel couldn't forgive his brother. It was something different, something that was buried much deeper than all of that in the past, something that was entirely between the two brothers, an injury that had never quite healed.

»Enough of this.« Castiel hissed finally and this time his blue eyes were hard and cold as he stared down at Dean with a face that almost didn't even look like him, a cruel mask of anger and a silent threat lingering between them in the air. There was a line that Dean should not cross and never had this been more clear than in this moment as Castiel's blue eyes were blazing in fury. »Do not assume to know anything about me.«

 

**-End of Chapter 12-**


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!!Warning: Graphic rape scene!!!!!

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

Maybe he should have expected the attack that was coming his way. Maybe he should have known. Maybe he should have stayed away from the showers without Castiel by his side. Maybe he should not have let his pride get the better of him - again. After Castiel’s unspoken threat had lingered in the air of the cell even after he had left to vanish somewhere else, Dean had felt restless and uneasy. He had wanted to go take a shower but not alone and then he had realized just what pussy he had become. Since when was he such a coward? He didn't need Castiel or Gadreel or anyone else to protect his ass.

The death of Tom was still fresh in his mind and so was Sam’s relapse despite the fact that it was already two months in the past. He hardly slept through the nights ever since he had first heard of Sam’s relapse and since Tom’s death. He had been a complete asshole, yes, and a rapist too, and his death was not really on his hands, yet he felt guilty about it. He hadn't wished death upon him, despite his crimes, despite what an awful human being he had been, yet Gadreel had killed for him, yet Castiel had asked his brother to kill for him. Gadreel was still the Pellegrino bloodhound and if he was just one of the lower class family members … Fuck, he never wanted to meet Lucifer Pellegrino, who seemed to be the real deal when it came to murder, after everything he had heard about the man who had been literally named after the devil himself. And to this day, Tom’s bloody smashed face haunted his dreams and he just couldn't get rid of those images, no matter how hard he tried. The nightmares he had about Tom were only replaced by nightmares about Ruby lying in a puddle of her own blood, her throat slit from ear to ear and her large brown eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling. And if it were neither Tom nor Ruby who haunted his dreams it was Sam lying in a puddle of his own mess with the stench of vomit lingering in the air, filling the small dorm room completely, or his father’s lifeless face as Dean had seen him lying in his open casket.

Maybe the worst thing was, however, that he was still not a step closer to his goal, he still had no actual information for Agent Mills, he still had no means to get Castiel on his side and involved with the FBI except for whoring out his body to him, knowing that Castiel would see right through that as soon as he would learn of Dean’s involvement with the FBI. And how could he expect Castiel to help him anyway? The dude had children, after all. It would be the worst thing he could do to get him involved unknowingly. No, if Castiel would help him, the decision had to be made by Castiel knowing every detail, knowing every risk involved because neither Dean nor the FBI could truly promise Castiel that his children would be unharmed if Castiel’s family would ever even get the slightest hint of this situation.

His decision this day to go to the showers alone was maybe not the wisest of all, not with how the climate inside the prison was these days. The holidays were taking its toll on the inmates. Everyone was on edge, everyone was missing their loved ones, everyone wanted to be free and out there on Christmas or New Years.

Still, for days Dean had left the cell only when it had been absolutely necessary to do his work or go grab something to eat. He wasn't shying away from conflict, but he didn't want to get involved if he didn't need to. In the last week alone there had been three murders each accompanied by a lockdown that usually lasted the entire day, not to mention the rapes that occurred on a daily basis these past two weeks as it seemed or the fights outside on the courtyard that usually ended bloody for everyone involved and with shots being fired. If prison was dangerous under normal circumstances, during the holiday season it was like jumping into the predator compound in the zoo after the tigers had been starved for weeks.

Then again, ever since he had picked a fight with Eldon Styne and won, no one had ever really dared getting on his bad side again. He was one of them, just one more asshole, one more predator, one more monster.

Maybe that was his entire reasoning behind leaving his cell in the first place. He wanted to show them that he was not afraid of them and that he did not need Castiel’s protection at all times just to go to the showers. He couldn't deny his relief, though, as he saw a group of guys leave the showers right as he rounded the corner. Usually, it wasn't too bad anyway, but there were certain people that always tried to fuck around with him. Not to mention that Dean had already broken a few noses and dislocated a few more shoulders since October whenever one of those assholes had made the mistake of coming too close to Dean in some way or another.

As he slipped into the shower room a few moments later there was still steam hanging in the air, fogging the room as Dean crossed over the tiles to switch on one of the showers and slip underneath the stream of water. He wanted to call Sam or write a letter, he wanted to ask him to visit, he wanted to see him, he wanted to make sure that he was okay. Of course, he couldn't do that. It wouldn't be fair to invite his baby brother into this prison. It wouldn't be fair to make him come to such a place, especially not with every risk that might be involved. Eldon Styne, though still a pain in the ass, had become a lot calmer around Dean ever since he and Castiel had beaten that fucker up quite badly two months ago but Dean was not naive enough to brush him off so easily. Eldon was a sleazy bastard and the risk that he would find out who Dean really was still holding strong. He could never risk someone like Eldon find out about his family and the same held true for the Pellegrinos. He had to go through this alone.

As he heard steps echoing in the front room of the showers he tensed and even more so as he realized that it seemed to be a group of guys walking in on him. Still, he didn't hurry and didn't hastily leave the showers. He would not make himself the victim here. Instead, he carried on scrubbing his body squeaky clean as the group walked in. Only shortly, Dean threw a glance over his shoulder. For a second, the other guys looked at him, but then Dean only nodded in acknowledgment and turned back to the wall. He couldn't deny that his heart was thumping a little harder, though, as he listened to the other men take position at the showers around him. No one made a move or some crude comment, however. So, Dean finished washing up and left the showers unscathed even without Castiel by his side. maybe it was because everyone knew that he was Castiel’s bitch, maybe it was because everyone knew that he was not afraid to attack even someone like Eldon fucking Styne. Yes, after he and Cas came out of solitary confinement, he had been hailed a hero amongst the scum of this prison for beating up Eldon.

Still, that had not changed that much about the harassment he had received afterward. Sure it got a bit calmer, but the comments he was receiving nowadays were therefore a lot dirtier. But he could deal with this kind of stuff and at least the jokes that were made now … They were not untrue, right? At least now they were telling the truth when they referred to him as Cas’ bitch. Thinking of Castiel, however, it was mostly Dean who instigated their trysts. It was him who would pull him over for a kiss, it was him who would push Cas down on the mattress to climb on top of him and straddle his hips. Weird how quickly Dean had found a liking to this situation he was now in. Before Castiel, he had never even considered fucking another man, though he had never been outright opposed to the general idea. Sex was sex, after all.

As he left the showers and slowly strode back down the hallway, his intention was not to go right back to the cells. He wanted to get a few books from the library because he felt like Cas would probably not be up to talking or playing games with him for the next few hours or even days after he had walked out on Dean before. Gadreel seemed to be a very sore topic and he wished he would know why. It couldn't be only because of Gadreel’s crimes, no matter how vile they were because otherwise, Castiel would not be that angry. No, Cas had been hurt deeply by something his brother did and there was still just enough love that Gadreel would do his brother’s bidding to repent for what he did. There was just enough love left that Gadreel would even cover up a crime Dean had committed just because Castiel would tell him too - and apparently, one single look had sufficed for Gadreel to understand what Castiel wanted in that moment. There was a deeper connection between the brothers, whether Cas liked to admit it or not.

Dean was so lost in his thoughts, that he didn't notice how the door to his left-hand side that was leading into one of the maintenance rooms, slid open. Only as he was suddenly grabbed by a pair of huge hands, did he realize what happened but it was already too late as he realized how he was pulled into the dark room behind that door in a matter of mere seconds.

As the reality started to sink in he immediately started struggling and fighting back but before he knew it there was a sharp pain on the back of his head. Dean stumbled forwards, unable to hold himself upright after the blow he had received. The world was keeling over in an instant and he felt a wave of nausea hitting his stomach so harshly that he was certain he would throw up. Dizzily, he noticed how the lights around him turned on just as his body hit the ground and, with a groan, he grabbed for the spot on his head that was hurting the most only to bring it back to his eyes to see the blood between his fingers.

»Thought you could get away with what you did, Deanie?« Oh, that fucking voice. He knew he was in big trouble even before Eldon Styne grabbed a fistful of his hair and made him wince in pain from the pressure on his scalp and the wound on the back of his head in the process to make Dean face him. His light blue eyes were cold but didn't miss the glimmer of satisfaction as he held Dean at his mercy like this. »Thought I wouldn't recognize you, Winchester?« He tried to fight his way back into the reality he was in as his vision was getting cloudier each with second, black spots appearing at the edges of his field of vision, threatening to swallow him whole. He could not pass out right here, he could not be weak now. He had to fight because otherwise, he wouldn't get out alive and that was for certain now that Dean stared at Eldon’s face and saw the sinister grin playing on his face. Yes, undoubtedly, Eldon knew exactly who Dean was. »Did you really think I would not recognize you? I know who you are, I know what you did. My brother died because of you and you are going to pay for it. And this time your cute little boyfriend is not here to help you.«

Suddenly, Eldon let go of his hair and Dean slumped back on the ground in an instant. He saw how Eldon moved to get back to his feet just as Dean struggled to hoist himself up on his elbows too. It was then that he saw how Eldon’s left food came flying towards his face before his whole world turned black at once.

Dean came to in a fog, wondering why it was so hard to breathe all of the sudden. He felt like there was a ton of rocks on his chest, not allowing him to suck in air. Finally, he was able to force his eyes open only to find that the world around him was shifting in and out of focus. He smelled the stench of cleaning supplies and iron hanging in the air. His left cheek was pressed into the cold grey linoleum floor. There was light like a thousand suns burning brightly down from the ceiling, flickering every now and then, warning that the neon tube would give out soon. He could hear dull noises from somewhere but where this somewhere was he was not able to tell. Somewhere might as well be a whole other planet in this moment. And while his brain was still trying to find out where he was or who he was, his senses made him dimly aware that something was very wrong, like a certain feeling of dread that was settling into the pit of his stomach. He did not even quite grasp what had happened or how he came to black out like this, at least not at this very moment.

First, he felt pain, his entire head throbbing in agony. His eyes fell shut again if just for a moment because the throbbing of his skull was unbearable for the time he kept them open and being blinded by the light. His impulse was to run and fight, but his limbs felt like a dead weight on him and once he had closed his eyes, his eyelids refused to open again. He could feel that there was something with his entire left arm. He felt as if it had been ripped out clean from its socket and was no longer attached to his body. He didn’t dare to look.

After a few seconds, he became more and more aware of being shoved into the ground underneath him face first by a crushing weight, his bare stomach and hips scraping against the ground mercilessly. He felt the cold air against his naked backside, suddenly alerted by the fact that he was indeed naked with something – or more horrifying _someone_ – inside of him, strong arms pinning him down although he was not resisting at first. His mind reeled, not wanting to comprehend as the fog started to lift oh so very slowly. The voice of a man was muttering something behind him that he couldn't quite make out at first, then another. It hurt. It hurt worse than Dean had ever experienced something to hurt in his entire life, the pain ripping into him with each thrust.

»Stop-« He managed to get out sluggishly because his tongue still refused to cooperate as if it was glued to the roof of his mouth. Desperate to get away even in his haze, he started scrabbling against the ground with his right hand in a blind panic, not knowing what to do or make of the situation, not grasping the full impact of what was happening to him at all. Almost instantly, the right forearm of someone was wrapped around his neck from behind. As he tried to pull away, he realized that it was impossible to escape. Worse even, his thighs were shoved farther apart by the legs of the man who was still behind him, effectively pinning him further down to the ground with his weight. He could not breathe. Black dots at the edge of his field of vision came threateningly back into focus again.

»I told you I would be making you my bitch.« The words came from somewhere behind him, groaning out each word and accompanied it by a thrust of his hips, ripping him apart piece by piece while his mind was still not ready to accept what was happening. »You enjoy this, don't you?« The shallow thrusting did not even slow as the man behind him held Dean while he squirmed in desperation against the chokehold, trying to pull free with oddly weak arms as if all his muscles had just defused like alcohol in an instant, as if he was David in his fight against Goliath, unable to even scream in pain while he felt every movement of the cock that was buried deep inside of him.

»No…« He ground out, still pulling against the chokehold as best he could, but the man behind him did not seem to hear and neither did the man Dean could see in the corner of his eyes standing beside him. It finally dawned on him, that he had no idea how many there were, while Eldon was breathing in ragged gasps and grunts as he pushed in further. »Please-« He tried again, but his choked voice came out only as a hoarse and empty plea.

When he felt the chokehold tightening further and heard the laughter of the people around him - his mind automatically reeling in horror and trying frantically to find out how many there were - Dean realized with a gnawing sickness that it did not matter if he begged them to stop or how hard he struggled. He was not getting away. This time there was no one to help him. He was not going to escape either. He was not going to be reunited with his brothers sometime in the future. He was not going to be free ever again. They had been waiting for him. And if he would keep on fighting he would risk a collapsed windpipe or a broken bone or internal bleeding. He could not risk this. He would not die like this. He could not. He could not have his family come in to identify his body, he could not have them know what happened to him.

»You know, Deanie … As I first saw you when you arrived I thought how much fun it would be to break you down and make you my slut for what you did to my brother. Then, after I heard you talk about your little brothers for the first time, I thought … if I would ever get out of here, how much more fun it would be to find your brothers instead…« His voice was low and barely above a whisper and yet it chilled him to the core, bringing back the nausea he had almost forgotten about and buried deep in his bowels. Swallowing his terror and humiliation, he tried, forced himself, to go still and limp, for that was all he could do and when he was finally released from the chokehold he sucked in the air in gratitude.

Dean watched numbly as drops of blood fell from the tip of his nose, glistening in the agonizingly bright light, to land on the ground just inches away from his face. He would kill him. If Eldon would let him live, Dean would slit his throat for sure. That was what he promised himself in this moment. He could live with being raped. He could live with the humiliation and the pain, but the moment Eldon Styne dragged his brothers into this had only signed Eldon’s death sentence in Dean’s book.

He could feel Eldon shift as he seemed to brace himself. »Alright, you take me all the way, you fucking whore? Want all of this?« Dean clenched his jaw, unwilling to make any sound. Nothing of this mattered as Eldon pulled him slowly back onto his hips, pushing in farther than he had gone before. He could feel the blood running down his thighs and willed his mind to not think about it. »So tight ... that's it … just like that…«

Dean tried to stifle a whimper of pain, his numb fingers clutching at the ground and his short nails digging into the grooves of the linoleum beneath him. It was too much. But Eldon suddenly pushed in unbelievably further and this time he could not bite away the scream ripping from his lips.

The roaring laughter of the men around burned hot in his ears and as Eldon behind him moaned, his body practically in spasms of pleasure. »See? He likes that!« Another guy somewhere to his side laughed. »I told you he likes that.« Dean was unable to turn his head to look at the man and he could not recognize his voice too. He was sure he knew him. Probably just one of Eldon’s Nazi goons. Eldon slid out slowly and then starting to pound in again fast and hard, deeper than before, earning himself a second small scream from the former cop.

Before he knew it a hand tightly gripped his jaw, fingers digging into the skin. Another hand had a fistful of hair that forced his head to hang back a little. Pain, once again clouded his vision. His jaw was aching already and Dean was forcing himself not to think about it, to not linger on the thoughts of what was happening as foul tasting fingers were shoved into his mouth at once.

»Those fucking cock-sucking lips.« The guy in front of him hummed in satisfaction of having Dean Winchester at his mercy like this. »Would love to see another dick in your throat right now.« Dean’s teeth automatically closed in on the fingers in his mouth biting down harshly and having the man pull them out sharply with a yelp of pain. Dean could taste the blood of him on his tongue. As long as he still had fight left in him, he would fight back with everything he had. »Fucking bitch!« The punch to his jaw came swiftly and all it did was thrust him back hard against Eldon in the process drawing yet another deep moan from his tormentor.

Dean knew what was going to happen to him and he had known it from the moment he had taken all the blame in court and accepted his punishment. The illusion of safety at Castiel’s side had been just that, an illusion and there was nothing he could do about what was happening next as he was forced to his knees with only his right hand able to brace himself against the ground, and with Eldon thrusting into him showing not even a hint of mercy. He didn't try to think about the taste of another man’s dick in his mouth as he felt the tip of the man's member thrust against his lips so hard it split them open before Dean's jaw was forced open by the guy's hand instead and he tried to force out the thought of how many more he would have to taste today as the man shoved his cock into his mouth fully, almost making him gag when he hit the back of his throat. »Don't even think about biting or I’ll punch out your teeth.« The man thrusting into his mouth breathed sharply and this time, not even Dean Winchester was dumb enough to do that.

Each of Eldon’s thrusts grew so much harder and faster than it was impossible for Dean not to jerk in pain, squeezing his eyes shut as if to force back tears that would come anyway. He couldn't breathe. His instinct was to plead with them, to apologize and beg for forgiveness as blackness was clouding his vision once more after he forced his eyes open. His mind was blank and he couldn't breathe as the guy in front of him was thrusting harder into his throat, making him gag, suffocating him. Eldon’s arm was back around his throat again as if he wanted to snuff out the remaining bit of his pathetic life.

Lost in his temporary bliss, his assailant gave one final, painful shove of his hips, twisting Dean’s spine with his chokehold until it was about to snap before he was being crushed into the ground again with the man in front of him pulling out just in time to let him breathe again. Eldon came with a muffled shout inside of him, his entire body shuddering with the release. There were voices, egging each other on, roaring something he could not understand as his world spun out of control and, after a final wave of pain and nausea washed over him, everything went blissfully, blissfully dark and mute once more.

※※※※※※※

A feeling of dread had him in a tight grip as he sat on the bottom bunk of the bunk bed inside his cell. Lockdown. Again. Castiel had spent the last five years of his life that had been meant to revolve around seeing his beautiful children grow up, in this prison. Lockdown was by no means a rare occurrence especially not in this time of the year when the emotions were overwhelming for everyone, even criminals. This time, however, he was alone in his cell as the door was forced shut and though this too was not new, it was the first time he found himself caring for what had transpired during the day.

It was Dean.

Minutes before everyone had been forced back into their cells, he had found Gadreel, his brother, leaning against the wall beside his cell door. Dean had been found beaten half to death and raped in one of the maintenance rooms by another inmate. That was everything Castiel got from his brother and that was all he needed too.

He didn't need a supporting hand of his older brother on his shoulder. He didn't need words of comfort. He didn't need Gadreel to promise him to hunt down whoever did this and make them pay. All of this was left unspoken and that was exactly how Castiel preferred it to be as he sat alone in his cell when the lights were shut off and left him in darkness. It was this moment when he realized that he had gotten too attached, that Dean Winchester had managed to sneak into his life too far. Yet, there was nothing he could do about it now. Dean was the first good thing that had happened to Castiel in years and he knew how stupid it was to even think like this, but it was the truth. This was prison and there was no love in prison, not even between brothers.

As he sunk back on Dean's bed, he felt like falling into a bottomless pit. It was true that he had wanted to protect him so much it had hurt and it was true that he liked him far more than he should and it was true that Gadreel knew all of this, that his brother could read him like an open book. There were things between him and his brother that could not be spoken about because Dean was right and that was even worse. He had loved Gadreel with all his heart growing up and Gadreel had loved him with all his heart. Gadreel had been the one protecting him and Balthazar and yet they could hardly look at each other these days because the pain was truly unbearable and every time he would talk to Gadreel he felt as if he was slowly suffocating.

But now… Now in this moment when he lay in bed and stared at his own mattress above him, he wanted nothing more than to have his big brother beside him to keep the dark thoughts at bay that would creep in on him so often when he was alone.

※※※※※※※

Gadreel had always preferred his mother’s name, Penikett, although he didn't even know the woman who birthed him other than from old photographs his father had once shown to him in one of his sentimental, alcohol-infused moments. She had left him with his father without being forced to do so. Just like Balthazar's mother, his mother had wanted to enjoy life and further her own career, not be held back by some bastard son from a mobster. He had been an inconvenience to her and that seemed to be the growing theme of his entire life. He was an inconvenience. For his mother, his father, his stepmother, his half-brothers and everyone else who got involved with him in one way or another.

When he had been younger - a lot younger - he had made the mistake of thinking that this was different with Balthazar and Castiel, his two younger brothers who had always been looking up to him. That they were the only persons in his life who did not look at him the same way everyone else did, that they did not see him as an inconvenience of any sort, that they maybe even looked up to him with love. He had never been happier than when he had two little brothers whom he could protect from the oldest four. That had suddenly become his mission in life. Protecting. Keeping them safe. And suddenly he had not felt like such an inconvenience and such a waste of space to the world anymore because he had a mission, he could make himself useful. He could help raising those wonderful little creatures the right way, keep them from harm, keep them from becoming like him, keep them from going pushed under the bus by their older siblings.

He was not even that much older than those two and yet, suddenly, he had felt as if he had found his purpose in life as if he could become more than just a blunt tool. He had been two years old when Balthazar had been born, a chubby little thing screaming at the world in protest with tiny fat fists raised to the skies as if already the center of attention during a play. Gadreel remembered this day because it had been one of the happiest in his life. He had barely been able to look inside the crib his baby brother had been lying in, but he had taken position right next to it every time the adults had let him. And he had been five years old when in July of that same year, Castiel had been born, a small, fragile little thing, born prematurely because of the accident his mother had had that ultimately cost her life. He had been such an unhappy little person and Gadreel had felt drawn to him maybe even more than to Balthazar because Balthazar had never needed protection. Castiel, on the other hand, did and he had been willing to protect him at all costs, never letting him out of his sights.

And he had been contempt with his new role in life. He had loved his younger brothers whereas he could only find disgust for the older ones. He had been there to take Castiel under his wing when the boy with the impossibly blue eyes had come crying to him because of the monster in his closet or because Raphael had told him some horrible tale, he had been the one to patch him up when Lucifer hit him or shoved him down a small flight of stairs again, and he had been the one to dry his tears when Michaels insults had been just too much for such a small creature to deal with. Castiel had been different from the rest of their bunch from the start in every regard. He had not been cruel, not enjoyed seeing others cry or in pain. They all wore the names of angels but the only one of them who truly was one, was Castiel. Still, Gadreel hadn't been there when his brother had needed him the most and that mistake would probably haunt him for the rest of his life.

That was the thing that set him apart from most of the other inmates in this prison. He deserved to be here. Not for the crime that had brought him here, not for the murder of his beloved wife and the child he would never get to know, but for that one mistake he made when he was only fourteen years old. He had let his baby brother down when Castiel had needed him the most and that was something he would never be able to repent for.

Outside the world was covered in snow, hidden underneath a thick white blanket and as Gadreel stared at the ceiling above him, he was unable to shake off everything that happened. He was not a fan of Dean Winchester, but that man had not deserved what he had gotten. He seemed like a decent enough guy, and yet he could feel that there was something off about him or maybe that was the paranoia of a big brother seeing how his younger sibling fell for this man and became too attached to him in such short a time. He had always known that Castiel was gay and to him, that had never mattered. All he wanted for his brother was to be happy. But this, Dean Winchester, could only bring danger and it would be fruitless to try anything to prevent that anyway. A part of him wondered if it wouldn't be better would Dean die of his injuries. It would be better for Castiel, at least.

 _»Castiel is gone!«_ The voice still echoed in his head when it got quiet around him, even years after the fact as if he was still there in that moment, coming home drenched to the core from the thunderstorm outside after he rushed home in a blind panic. _»You were supposed to look after him!«_ With a groan he turned on his side, trying to force these voices out of his head and yet he was unable to as that fateful day came back to him in all it's agonizing glory. He could still feel the rain fall on his face as he rushed the footpath up to the entry of the manor house he had grown up in. He could still feel how his lungs were burning up oxygen as he was desperate to breathe and not fall apart right away. He was back there on this rainy day in late August as the thunderstorm hit the countryside. He was back there as he barged into the house and nearly ran into the butler as he opened the door. He was back there, facing his father dripping wet and meeting the most disgusted face he had ever seen his stepmother made at his sight. He was back there, talking to his family, floundering and muttering his way through their interrogation. He was back there as his father punched him square in the jaw and left him to his brothers, that pack of wolves to rip him apart for his failure.

His only job had been to pick Castiel up from school that day. This was all they had asked of him and yet he had failed and he was back there, lying beaten bloody in his bed, bawling his eyes out because he had lost his brother like this, because he had not even been able to do what was asked of him and what he had promised to do as long as he was breathing. But this day lay in the past and there was nothing he could do about it now after all these years.

All he could do was to accept his punishment and relive that awful day all these years ago again and again and again until he would lose his mind or maybe until he would learn to forgive himself.

 

**-End of Chapter 13-**


	14. Chapter 14

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

He felt like walking through the worst nightmare of his life although he very much knew, that he had already done so as he had not been older than nine years and forgotten by his older brother. He felt like he was walking barefoot over broken glass for miles and miles without an end in sight, although he was sitting perfectly still on that uncomfortable bench inside the cafeteria. Gadreel worked, ironically enough, in the hospital ward of the prison. Of course, it would have been obvious for Castiel to do so instead and yet, a part of him had refused to even take it into consideration to ever take care of anyone again in a medical sense. He wasn't worthy of being a healer. That was at least what his consciousness so stubbornly told him every time he thought about it.

It was also Gadreel who supplied Castiel with information about Dean. He was not allowed into the hospital ward. No one was, except when they were in need of medical attention and that he was not. No one knew who had attacked Dean, but of course, the news that Dean had been indeed attacked this brutally had not even taken a day to spread through the entire prison and ever since that awful day, Castiel was the center of the general attention of the prison population. Everyone seemed all too eager to know how he was going to deal with it. But Castiel could not just run around and take out his anger on someone he believed could have been involved in this crime. Sure, they expected him to be a dangerous beast, a monster who had killed his previous cellmates in cold blood, but, in the end, that was not at all who he was and showing composure, detachment and a general disinterest in the situation seemed to be the better strategy while he tried to find out who was responsible.

The entire prison came into question, really. Then again, most were wise enough not to fuck with someone like Castiel. No. It had to have been someone who held a deep grudge against Dean and in that regard, there was only one person who came into question and that very person seemed a little too pleased with himself every time Castiel and he crossed paths.

Eldon Styne.

He had set his sight on Dean ever since the day Dean had set a foot in this prison. Even now, he laughed as he talked to his goons and every so often, when his blue eyes would fall on Castiel from across the room, there would be this flicker of satisfaction on his face, that crooked smile that told Castiel everything he needed to know.

※※※※※※※

There was a beeping sound that was keeping him awake and made it unable for him to find sleep and just a way of escapism, forcing him to relive it all over and over again - or as much as he remembered. Apparently, his condition had been quite bad when he had first been sent to the hospital ward. Life-threateningly bad, actually. So bad he had been coughing up blood the few short moments when he had been awake. So bad the staff had considered sending him to the nearest hospital that was not inside this prison where he could get surgery if necessary. His chart read like an all you can eat menu at the torturers' salon. Several broken ribs, some only cracked (hooray!), internal bleeding, concussion, skull fracture, dislocated shoulder, sprained wrist, and numerous bruises that covered his whole body in colorful purple marks all over. The worst of it all was, however, the pain in his jaw. Apparently, it had been dislocated by those assholes after he had passed out and hurt like a bitch now. Not to mention his ass. He tried not to think about it. Anal fissure, that was what stood right on top of the list of his many, many injuries and he hated it with a passion. His blood results had come back earlier this day and, to his relief, at least there was no sign that any of those fucking bastards had been sick, though he would need to redo the test in a few weeks again just to make sure.

For now, he was staving off infection and the truth still needed time to settle in while his mind was helpful to provide him with the memories every time he closed his eyes. He had been raped. That was the truth he tried not to think about. Eldon Styne and his goons had raped him and he didn't even know how many it were, how long it lasted, what they did to him after he had passed out from his concussion. Maybe that was worse. Had he stayed awake, at least he would be able to recount all the details. Maybe that would help him, actually. Now he would never have closure. He would walk this prison, wondering if the man that was grinning at him from across the room, was one of his rapists or not.

He felt as if ants were crawling underneath his skin. He felt dirty, for a lack of a better word. He could still feel those hands on him, still heard Eldon moan, still felt as if he was inside of him, moving and never letting go of Dean. The one thing he wanted to do was to shower and never stop, to wash away what happened to him although he knew that he couldn't and he knew that he shouldn't make such a big deal out of it. This was prison. He had known that this was something that could happen to him. He had known it from the start and being with Castiel had not been a foolproof solution anyway. He had known this. Yet, now here he was, unable to sleep, unable to forget, unable to work through it. He was left wondering how other inmates dealt with this kind of shit or if they did at all deal with it. Probably not. But it wasn't as if there would be someone to talk to about this kind of stuff anyway. The American prison system was not designed to rehabilitate criminals like it was in Germany for example. The American prison system was not designed to help but to lock away and to punish. In here, they were not even human beings. They were just numbers and no one cared for what happened to them inside this rotten facility. Rape and murder were just daily occurrences in here and they were dealt with just the same methodic and experienced way. It was routine.

He had always wanted to be a good guy, that was all he had ever wanted in life. He had wanted to be a good cop, a good brother, a good son, maybe someday even a good husband and father. But now he started to understand the other side, the people who he had put behind bars in the past. Maybe not everything was as black and white as he had always thought it was. And hell, if he had learned anything from this whole ordeal it was just how lucky he was to have been thrown into Castiel’s cell because, otherwise, something like what he had experienced with Eldon and his gang had happened a lot earlier and probably a lot more frequent. He was a skilled fighter and yet, against a group of guys he would have been helpless.

To his biggest surprise, out of all the people he had expected to see here, it was Gadreel who was working in the hospital ward and only as he saw the other Pellegrino brother in the hospital for the first time, did he realize how odd it was that it was not Castiel who was working here despite his history as a physician and aspiring surgeon. But maybe this was the point. Castiel was a man who punished himself for the death of his brother of which Dean was not yet convinced it was on his hands, so what greater punishment would Castiel be able to conduct for himself than staying away from the thing he had liked the most? To heal and to help had been the one thing he had thought was his role in life, so he took it away from himself to further his punishment.

Even now, Gadreel was not a man of many words whenever he came to look after Dean and checking on his injuries or to change his bandages. Apparently, he had been unconscious for three whole days and only on his third day awake, when Gadreel came to him again, he scooped up enough courage to talk to him. Until now he had not felt the desire to talk to anyone and had been the happiest when they would all just leave him be so that he could try and make sense of what happened even though he knew that there was no any of this would ever make sense.

»So … You are Castiel’s older brother, huh?« To Gadreel it had to seem random as Dean asked that question, at least the look that was then directed at him told Dean that it was exactly what he was thinking. For a moment, Gadreel just stared at him out of his steel blue eyes that seemed so much like those of Castiel now that he knew their relationship, though a lot harder and colder.

»He told you.« Came the response after a long moment of utter silence. It was not even a question because Gadreel knew his little brother, because Gadreel knew his little brother would sooner or later tell his annoying _roommate_ the truth.

»He sure did.« Dean tried a crooked little smirk even though he didn't feel like it. His whole body was hurting and he was burning up from the inside. »But don't worry, he only did so after I practically forced him to … You know … after _you_ killed Tom for me?«

»I think I don’t know what you mean.« Gadreel replied quietly as if he was honestly worried someone might overhear their conversation. Then again, Dean very much doubted, that anyone, especially the guards, would very much care for this revelation. To them Tom's death was not a mystery at all. They had decided it was an accident so it was. »Why should I have killed Tom for you? His death was, apparently, an accident.«

»Yeah … A tragic one too. I mean … these pots weigh at least as much as a fully grown man, it's not easy to move them at all when they are filled with water … Poor Tom and what a coincidence that this happened just after I left the kitchen early.«

He could watch how the corners of Gadreel’s mouth curled and not in amusement for sure. »You should better watch your mouth, Winchester. My brother might not know what game you're playing, but I sure do. If you want to get out of here alive, maybe even see your brothers again someday, you should refrain from saying such things about me when you have no proof to support your claims.« It was a very clear threat that Gadreel supplied on a whim like this as if they were just talking about the weather. Hell, as if Dean wouldn't already know that he was no one to fuck around with anyway.

»You wanted to know why you would do such a thing for someone like me, whom you obviously do not like very much.« Dean continued unfazed by the threat Gadreel had thrown his way so casually. »It's because you didn't do it for me at all but because your brother asked you to. I don't know how and I don't know when, but I knew he did and I also know from experience that you would do everything Castiel would ever ask you for.«

»Is that so?« Gadreel huffed as he bent over Dean to pull away the bandage on his head to have a look of the pulsating injury on the back of his head as if he was not bothered at all by their conversation. »And why would I do everything he wants?«

»Because somewhere along the lines you fucked up big time. Of course, I wasn't there, I don't know the details, but from my experience of having younger brothers myself, I know that there is something deeper going on between you guys that has nothing to do with the crimes you both committed at all. And I know that, if I would ever do anything that had hurt by brothers in any way, I would from then on do anything they would ask me to just to make it up to them.« He wheezed as Gadreel pulled the bandage back in place and scraped over the wound that had been crudely sewn shut by one of the nurses.

»Don't make the mistake of comparing your family to mine, Winchester. There is no such thing as brotherly bonds in my family.«

»Yes, there is.« He groaned as he rearranged his limbs to get more comfortable and didn't succeed in the slightest. He was in a world of pain even without Gadreel pulling on his bandages and patching him up. »You killed Cas’ previous cellmates. Why? Because they probably did something that crossed the line, because you wanted to protect him. So, deny it all you want, but we both know the truth.«

»Do we now.« Gadreel scoffed but at least he stopped denying it and for Dean that was as good as a win. »Is there a point to this conversation anyway?«

»Can't a guy chit chat with his nurse?«

»I know what you are doing, Dean and it's not working. I'm not Castiel.«

»So what am I doing?«

»You are trying to sweet talk me like you did Castiel. You are trying to get me on your side, like you did Castiel. Don't think I wouldn't know who you are, don't think I wouldn't know your spiel or what you are trying to do.« As Gadreel leaned forward just slightly, it felt as if his eyes were drilling into his very soul all of the sudden and this time he couldn't help but feel threatened. »Castiel likes you, Dean and I would advise you not to risk that sentiment.«

»Well, I am glad that you did prove my point, though. You do love your brother, otherwise there would be no need for you to threaten me. I don't think any of your older brothers like for example … I don't know … that Lucifer-guy, would waste his time threatening the guy his brother fucks.« Dean would have grinned at Gadreel would the situation be different.

»Be careful, Winchester. You wouldn't be the first guy I’d shove into an industrial dryer alive and set it on full speed.« Gadreel sneered before patting Dean’s shoulder, making sure that it was the injured one he took. »I’m not here because there wasn't a damn good reason to put me behind bars, Dean. I don't know what you’ve heard about me, but I am a killer indeed and not like those lunatics who roam this prison either. I don't take joy in killing, I do it because that's my job, with no remorse, with no hesitation. So when the day comes, and it _will_ come, that Cas wants you dead, it will be my pleasure to execute his wish. And one more thing before I go and leave you to your misery: Don't ever look at my brother and make the mistake of thinking he is an angel. Castiel is far from being innocent. He is a killer much more brutal than I ever was and I do not mean the fate that befell our brother with that.«

※※※※※※※

There really was nothing Castiel wanted more than to kill Eldon Styne for what he did to Dean. He wanted to rip him to shreds and yet he decided to idly stand by and just watch. No matter his anger, what happened to Eldon Styne was Dean’s decision and that he knew. Would he just go and kill Eldon or tell Gadreel to do the job for him, Dean might not be too happy.

Then again, why would he care what Dean wanted or not? Eldon Styne had put his hands on his property, on his bitch. That was how it worked in prison and he should go and punish for that, he should make sure that no one would ever dare touching Dean again. Maybe Dean's general good personality was slowly rubbing off on him.

Still, it was already three weeks since Dean had been attacked and other than the occasional report he got from Gadreel he knew nothing about Dean’s condition by now. The only thing he did know was that Dean was recovering and he had actually managed to get Gadreel to smuggle in a book for Dean to read. Not knowing how Dean was or when he would come back was the worst of all of this while the whole entire prison seemed to watch Castiel’s every move, wondering just when he would finally snap and kill a guy. That was only one reason more why Castiel kept himself in check at all times and why he refused to act any different than usually while his insides were cooking up quite literally.

If he had learned anything growing up a Pellegrino, then it was definitely to never show any kind of emotional weakness - or emotions at all.

»You missed me, Sweetheart?« Castiel almost jumped as the voice ripped him from his darkening thoughts and, sure enough, as he followed the voice to its source, there he was, in all his annoying glory. Dean Winchester, with a crooked smile on his face, clutching his ribs slightly and standing a little hunched over.

He looked awful. He was pale behind the bruises that were blossoming on his face and the skin he could see where it was not covered with the orange fabric of his jumper. His bruises had already faded to a nasty yellow and greenish blue by now, but they were still there, still a reminder of what happened to him. He wore his left arm in a sling and his left wrist was covered in bandages. For a second, Castiel just sat there before he slowly got up from Dean’s bed. He didn't even know what to do or how to approach him. Dean had been through the most traumatizing situation in his entire life and yet he forced a grin as he was facing Castiel, yet, he was not flinching as Castiel approached him or shrunk away immediately. He held himself as proudly as he could in that moment and for some reason that only made Castiel angrier.

He didn't cross the distance between them entirely but he waited until Dean had slowly stepped further into the cell, limping just slightly as he did. Only then, as he was inside the cell, did Castiel threw his doubts overboard and stepped closer to Dean. Before the other man could do something or say something, Castiel had grabbed him by the back of his neck to draw him in closer. Not kissing him, but letting Dean rest his forehead on his shoulder instead. »I’m going to kill that bastard who did this to you.«

»That's awfully sweet and romantic of you, Babe, but not necessary. Revenge never did any good for anyone.« Dean replied quietly against his shoulder and Castiel felt how his arms tightened around Dean's waist for a second before Dean pulled free again. »That lesson I learned the hard way.« He had expected Dean to say something like that and yet, Castiel’s thirst for revenge was much more consuming than he would have ever thought it would be for some random guy he knew only for a few short months. He neither was Dean’s boyfriend nor was he his guardian angel, after all. He was a god damn Pellegrino and they did not mollycoddle strangers. If Dean didn't want revenge, then Castiel would not do anything and if he did … He had to get it himself.

»How are you?« His words betrayed his intentions once again as he took a step back from Dean to have a better look at his face.

»Well, feeling like crap.« Dean sighed and slowly limped over to his own bed to sit down slowly. »Not gonna lie … It sucks what happened and I should have listened to you. I should have known something like this would happen. I should have known that Eldon-« He stopped himself half sentence as if he hadn't wanted to spill the beans on Eldon like this. Then, however, with a small shake of his head, he continued. »I should have known.«

»I don't understand why Eldon would attack you now after he seemed to stay away the last few months. It seems so random.«

»No, it wasn't random at all. He planned that shit.« Dean scoffed. »He just had to wait for a moment when I was alone, that was all. It would have happened anyway sooner or later.«

»But why is he so incredibly focused on you? Is it because we beat his ass?«

»That's one reason. And just for the record, _I_ beat his ass, you just helped.«

Castiel rolled his eyes but smirked anyway. »So what's the other reason then?«

Dean hesitated and it was obvious that he didn't want to speak about it, but then he scooped up the courage he needed to look up at Castiel, shrugging his uninjured shoulder. »I helped to get his brother behind bars a few years ago. It was one of the first cases I was working on back in the day and I was the rookie police officer who found the evidence that finally signed Jacob’s fate. He died in prison not long after he was sent there, killed by the other inmates. Eldon recognized me, apparently. That was why he attacked me. Revenge.«

The Stynes were just one of the many other crime families of America, just like them. A sick bunch they had always had troubles with though they were much smaller than the Pellegrinos. »Why didn't he kill you then?«

»I don't know, man, I was unconscious for the most part - luckily. Maybe he thought I was going to die anyway, maybe he was disturbed. I don't care.« Yes, he cared and that was obvious to Castiel. The problem was though that Castiel was not really the best person to comfort others. He was socially inept, he was awkward and he did not always read social cues right. Still, talking to Dean and being close to him, seemed so oddly easy to him every time they talked. Maybe for once, he should just trust his guts - not that this had ever been beneficial to him in any way.

»I’m glad you didn't die.« He quietly mumbled as he sat down beside him.

»Were you worried about me?« Dean chuckled. »If so, don't be. Bad weeds grow tall.« His first instinct was to scold Dean for calling himself a bad weed but then he realized how weird this would be. The truth was, Dean was precious to him and that in itself was just wrong. It was not just that he could not allow himself to feel something for anyone else because of his family or because of who he was and how much blood he had on his hands. It was the fear that feeling so strongly for Dean brought with it.

»I can’t help it.« Castiel shrugged and once again, Dean Winchester surprised him as he patted his shoulder gently.

»You’re just too precious.« Dean smirked before his eyes fell onto the floor again as if he wanted to say something else but didn't quite know how.

»I’m glad you’re back.« Castiel admitted quietly although that was probably the last thing he should say to Dean. Yet, he couldn't help the way he felt and he couldn't help the fact that he was wearing his emotions on his sleeve for the most part when he started to get too close to another person. Lucifer would have a field day with this confession, though innocent enough in nature.

»That's awfully nice to hear but I'm afraid I'm not up to fucking at the moment.« It was meant as a joke and Castiel understood this and yet, he had a hard time finding the humor in it. He couldn't forget what happened to Dean. He just couldn't. He wanted to pull him into his arms once more, wanted to keep him close by, to kiss him and make it okay and yet, they were not a couple, they were not lovers. It was like Dean said. They were fuckbuddies and nothing more than this. His concerns were misplaced. »I didn't know Gadreel was working in the hospital ward.« Dean broke the awkward silence between them that had been filled only with Castiel staring at him.

»Yes … He is.«

»Why aren't you?« Dean asked quietly as if unsure if he could ask such a question.

»Because … Because I don't think that's the right place for me.« Castiel admitted and though he was itching to tell Dean everything, he couldn't bring himself to tell him his darkest secrets. There was no way a man like Dean, a man who looked at him and called him an angel, would look at him the same way ever again and that, for some way, he didn't know if he would be able to take. »Gadreel updated me as much as he could about you. I think that's the most we talked in years.«

»I'm honored that I had such an important role of getting you back together.« Dean smirked but they both knew that he meant what he said. A part of him, maybe, even wished that he and Gadreel might be able to have a relationship again.

»I hope, he did not say anything stupid.«

»No, don't worry. He just threatened to kill me if I would hurt his baby brother.« Dean then snickered. »So nothing I wouldn't have done myself in the past.«

»I don't think Gadreel cares enough to say something like that, but nice try, you almost got me.« Castiel replied with a smirk.

»He does care.« Dean sighed and it was him who brushed his fingers over Castiel’s stubbly jaw to grab his chin and turn his face towards him. »You might not get how he feels, Cas. Let me tell you, from the perspective of a big brother myself, your brother cares a lot about you. He wouldn't have helped me with the Tom situation, would he not care about you. And it was him who killed your previous cellmates also. I can only assume that they fucked with you in some way and that this was why he killed them.«

»Killing is not proving that he cares, Dean. Killing is second nature to him.« Castiel shrugged his shoulders as they remained in this position. Of course he was aware that Gadreel had killed his other cellmates and he knew why too. They were so close again that he could feel Dean’s breath on his face and although he felt the urge to kiss him, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he just brushed his fingertips carefully through Dean’s dark blonde hair, before placing his hand gingerly at the back of his head. »To kill … It's in our blood, Dean.«

»Cas … Please. Balthazar’s death was an accident.« Dean was so adamant to defend him even to himself. Dean was so adamant to console him even though he was the one who needed consoling. Dean was so adamant to convince him to forgive himself for Balthazar’s death. It was heartbreaking that he did this although he didn't know what kind of monster Castiel really was. In his eyes, he was worse than Gadreel, worse than Lucifer, perhaps.

»Dean, I-«

»There's something I need to tell you.« Dean interrupted him right away before Castiel felt, to his biggest surprise, how their lips brushed together so faintly he wasn't even sure if he had really felt it at all. The moment was gone faster than he could do anything about it too. »And I’m afraid that, if I don't tell you know, I might not get another chance. And I hope that you’ll hear me out because I'm really not up for a fight at the moment.«

»What is it?« He didn’t want to hear it.

»I was…« He cleared his throat as he pulled away from Castiel to sit up straight on the bed again, dragging his right, uninjured, hand over his face. »Before I arrived here, at this prison, I was approached by a member of the FBI.« Castiel felt himself tensing right away. »This person asked me if I would be up to investigate inside the prison I was going to be send to. This person wanted me to investigate your family from within. They worked with a guy named Zachariah before, but he was killed.« Zach … As if Castiel wouldn't know this story. Fuck. »They thought it wouldn't be wise to approach a member of the family up front like they did with someone as unimportant as Zach. So they wanted me to do it.«

»That's why you were sent to my cell.« Castiel deducted more to himself than Dean, but Dean quickly interrupted him and grabbed the hand that was uselessly lying on Castiel's right thigh.

»Hey, listen, Cas.« He urged before he felt Dean's hand on his jaw again, forcing him again to look him in the eyes. He did so, but only very reluctantly. »I wanted nothing to do with that at first. I didn't want to get involved with the mob, Jesus! I was too afraid what would happen to my family, you know? They promised me to get me out of jail would I deliver them information about your family, some prove that would finally link your family to the crimes they might have committed. They promised me to get me and my family in witness protection, but I declined. I didn't want them to give up their lives just so that I could leave prison early.«

»But?«

Dean let out a deep sigh. »But I got to know you. I started to enjoy your company. You are a good guy, Cas. You're not like the rest of your family. You're not a cold blooded killer. I understood that after you told me about Balthazar. And so, I decided to agree to the offer of the FBI.« Castiel wanted to say something, to pull away from Dean as if he had been stung by something, but before he could, Dean had grabbed his hand again, almost digging his fingertips into the palm of his hand and his eyes were sincere as he looked at Castiel now, his head slightly tilted in a way that Cas knew was very uniquely his as if Dean was slowly starting to adopt some of his mannerisms. »But, Cas, I demanded that the FBI look into Balthazar’s death again and into the death of that butler too. I demanded that they, if you decide to help me, get the same deal as me, that we both get to leave this prison and get new lives. Cas, please think about it. You could finally meet your kids! You could start a new life with them.«

As he rose from the bed he felt the itch to run out on Dean, but that was not an option. Still, he couldn't deny just how much on edge he was and it was probably very obvious to Dean as well judging by the way he was looking at Cas now. They shouldn't talk about stuff like this right now. He should console Dean, he should comfort Dean, he should try and make it all better what he had needed to experience, he should apologize for not being there when Dean needed him the most and yet it was obvious that this was exactly what Dean did not want from him right now. He did not want to confront what happened to him. Dean was the kind of guy who rather swept it under a rug and would later have to deal with the repercussions of it when he would grow older and when it would come all crashing back down on him. That was how these things worked and no one knew this better than Castiel.

In this moment, however, all of this did not seem to matter. Dean was working with the feds. Dean was working with the feds against his family. Was this why Dean had decided to raise their relationship to the next level? Was this why they became more intimate? Had Dean just tried to wrap him around his finger so that Castiel would play along with all of this? It was a possibility and one he didn't like to consider at that. It was dumb not to consider that as a possibility, as he was reminded by a very much not helpful voice in his mind.

»Dean … You can't honestly expect that I will agree to something this outrageous.« Castiel tried to compose himself as he dragged a hand over his face before he looked at Dean again, his eyes boring into those ridiculously green ones.

»Cas-«

»No, Dean. How can you expect me to say yes to this? It's my family we are talking about!« He kept his voice quiet and low so that no prying ears might hear them, but dark enough so that Dean would understand the seriousness of the situation.

»Your family, Cas? You told me about them, did you forget that? You can't honestly expect me to believe you want to protect them.«

»That's not the point.«

»Then what is it? You could be free from them!«

»The point is that I deserve to be here, Dean. The point is that I belong in jail. The point is that I cannot put my kids in such grave danger.« He hissed. »And you shouldn't do either. Dean, if you go against me and my family, your brothers will suffer and I am not going to help you in this endeavor.«

This time he did leave the cell and didn't look back.

 

**-End of Chapter 14-**


	15. Chapter 15

**Valley Hope of Atchison, Kansas**

The month of January was a tough one in the Winchester family after the events of the last year that had torn them all in different directions after they had been such a tight-knit group beforehand. The new year, to Sam, brought nothing but the opportunity to start over, to start fresh, to finally get his shit together while his brother had to suffer in prison.

He was making progress, at least that was what everyone told him. His relapse happened in October and now, in the middle of January, he was almost four months clean after the relapse. Still, Sam Winchester would never make the mistake of thinking that this was it, that he was done, that he was clean and healthy and ready to go back to his normal life. Sonny, however, seemed to think that this was the case as Sam found himself sitting in Sonny’s office on the ground floor of the house with a large window overlooking the garden whenever he had pulled his curtains open, which was the case at the moment, allowing the sunlight to shine through and giving Sam the illusion that it was much too warm outside for snow to cover the ground still.

»I'm proud of you, Sam.« Sonny smiled at him from across the desk. He sat leaned back comfortably in his black leather armchair, looking at Sam down his nose through his glasses with a kind of warmth that Sam really only knew from his father whenever the old man had been sure that Sam wouldn't notice. »Nearly four months. That's a lot.«

»It's not enough.«

»It will never be enough, Sam. Not when you look at it as narrow minded as you do. Four months is a lot and that's an achievement that no one can ever take from you. It takes strength to get this far, Sam.«

»Still, I relapsed.«

»You did, but you got your shit together afterwards and I'm very proud of you for it. You could have chosen the easy way just as well and leave this facility. You didn't.«

»I didn't want to disappoint my family even more.« Sam quietly admitted before he dragged a hand through his hair.

»Well, that's a start.« Sonny chuckled. »We talked a lot about your brother Dean, Sam. You always said how brave he always was and how protective, how much he was always willing to give up so that his brothers had nice things and a good life.« He paused and Sam looked up at him in confusion. »When you talk about Dean this way, I always felt like you were putting him on some kind of pedestal, as if you thought you would never reach him, as if you would never be as good as him, as kind and brave and protective as him, as if you were maybe even not as pure as he was.« Again he took a moment of pause to collect his thoughts while Sam's confusion only grew. It was true what Sonny said, though.

»Dean…« He began quietly. »Dean was always special, somehow. It's not just the way he looks or stuff like this. He was always different. Good. Pure. He was an awesome brother growing up and a pain in the ass at the same time. Adam too. They are very much alike. Adam wanted to be just like Dean from the beginning and I did too … but I never managed to catch up to him, all the while Adam became more and more like him. I don't know, I just think … I felt like the black sheep of the family from the start and now … the fact that I’m here just proves that to me.«

»That's exactly what I mean, Sam.« Sonny sighed. »You think so little of yourself. But you are here because you want to be better, because you want to prove to yourself and your family that you can be better. I think that's enough, Sam. I think your brother would be very proud of you if he could be here right now. And I think, although I don't know Dean personally, that he would tell you that you have the very same kind of protective instinct that he seems to have. That's why you don't want your brother to come visit you as much, right?«

»I just think … This is not the right place for Adam. He’s only sixteen. He's impressionable. I don't want him to come here and get the wrong idea.«

»And that is the same reasoning why your older brother don't want you and Adam to go visit him, as you told me in the beginning. Do you see what I mean now?« Sam wanted to say something and deny his claim out of impulse, but instead, he paused for a second and then felt a smirk growing on his face. Maybe Sonny wasn't that far off after all.

»So what do you propose?«

»Call your brother. Both of them, preferably, now that I come to think of it. If Dean doesn't want you to visit, you could as well just call. And Adam … ask him to come. You are not a prisoner here, Sam. I told you that before and I trust you enough after four months of being clean, that you are able to take your brother out to the diner down the road to grab a bite to eat without relapsing.«

»Sonny, I don't know if I-«

»Sam. The reason why you are here is not so that I or the rest of the staff keep an eye on you 24/7 for the rest of your life. You are here to get clean, to get better, to get healthy and to learn how to cope with your addiction because addiction is something that one never loses. It will be there in the back of your mind for the rest of your life. You are here to learn how to deal with that monster inside. The day will come that you will need to leave this place and we have to prepare you for that day, step by step, slowly, until you are ready to go back to your normal life. But to do that, your homework is to call your brother, ask him to come on Saturday, go to Jane’s diner and have a nice day with your brother.«

»What if … What if I can't do it? If … If I do something stupid?«

»Then we will have to work harder.« Sonny smiled. »You can't run away from yourself forever, Sam.«

As Saturday came, Sam prepared for the most awkward day in history ever. He and Adam had gotten along as his little brother had visited him on Christmas, actually, and yet, Sam was indeed a little afraid of their day together. It was not just that he would spend the whole day with Adam that concerned him that much. He was worried about himself, worried that he might not be strong enough, worried that he might be faced with some kind of temptation out there and that he would not be able to say no to it. Then again, Atchison wasn't a huge metropole and he doubted that there would be a drug dealer waiting for him specifically around every corner.

It was a nice sunny but cold day as Sam was waiting on the front porch already, enjoying the tingly feeling as the cold wind was blowing into his face. It had snowed all through the night and in the earlier morning hours, Sam had helped Sonny to shovel the snow away from the paths and the driveway. He had enjoyed that bit of hard work - mainly because it had helped getting his mind off of his day with Adam.

It was around ten in the morning, as he saw the old blue 68’ Ford F-350 truck of none other than the legend Bobby Singer drive up to the house, prompting Sam to walk down the three steps from the porch. He had fond memories of that very car and remembered how Bobby’s dog, Rumsfeld, used to lie on the bonnet of this truck in the sun when he and Dean came to visit. Poor Rumsfeld. He missed that weird dog. However, Sam couldn't deny that he felt even more nervous to face Bobby in this moment as the car stopped and the engine turned off. He hadn't seen him since Dean’s trial. But there was also joy as he saw how Bobby got out of the car right away, followed swiftly by Adam. He almost wondered why Adam hadn't driven himself, but then again, Kate probably needed the car. Sam, Dean, and their dad had actually planned on buying Adam his first car when he would turn eighteen because Dean would not give up the Impala which was tucked away neatly in the garage of their childhood home. For a moment, he wondered if he shouldn't give the car to Adam instead. Why should that car stay hidden for fifteen years? Adam would take great care of Baby. He loved that car almost as much as Dean did.

Then again, knowing Adam, his little brother would probably never dare to touch Baby without Dean’s permission anyway. It was like a relict to their little brother.

»Sam!« Bobby’s booming voice greeted accompanied by a huge smile that spread all over his round face as he approached Sam with open arms to pull him into one of his bear hugs that made even Sam feel like a 3-foot tall child and not like a giant moose. Bobby had the same habit of pulling Sam down to his level as Dean had, while Adam usually stood on his toes to reach up to him instead. »Good to see you, Boy.« Bobby huffed as he held onto him for a moment before patting his back and letting go of Sam again. His hands didn't leave Sam right away, though, as they remained on his shoulders for a second as Bobby took a good look at his face. »Good to see you.« He repeated quieter. »How are you? Everything alright?«

»It's getting better.« Sam forced himself to smile but couldn't help it that his eyes fell to the floor at that. Bobby probably knew of his relapse too. There were no secrets in his family, not for long at least. »It's good to see you too, Bobby. What brings you here?«

»For one, this little Gremlin over there.« Bobby nodded in Adam’s direction. »Katie needed the car and since I have something to do around here anyway, I thought I might as well drive Adam. I have a friend who lives close by whom I have business with today, so it's not that big of a deal before you start protesting like you Winchesters like to do so much.«

»Well … You know us.« Sam huffed before he reluctantly turned to Adam who was waiting by the car. He didn't even know if he could hug his little brother. »Hey … Adam.« He addressed his brother carefully. »Thanks for coming, Man.«

Adam’s response was a mumble that Sam couldn't quite understand but it was probably not that important anyway. Bobby left shortly after this and left the brothers alone standing in front of the house in the first of probably many awkward moments that would come up today. »So … You up for burgers and fries or what?« For a moment, his brother just looked at him in a way Sam could not quite translate and could only assume that it was caused by Sam’s proposal though he was usually the one who would prefer salad over meat any day and constantly criticized his brothers favorite foods, but finally, there was a nod that led them to get going.

They walked in silence after they left the perimeter of the Valley Hope of Atchison and took their path down the country road that was leading up to the rehab facility. The rehab center was not far outside of the main part of the town and so the brothers were walking down the snowy road only for a few minutes. Of course, they could have driven in Sam’s car that was waiting in the parking lot, but he felt like walking and Adam didn't seem opposed to the idea anyway.

»So, how is school?« Sam finally asked after a while and clearing his throat a little. Sam had always been the brother who asked the important questions in life and that was apparently never going to change. Dean would have probably asked if Adam had a girlfriend yet instead and even to Sam this was almost comical.

»It's okay.« Adam replied but the way he said it and the way he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket made it all too clear to Sam, that his brother was lying or at least not telling the whole truth. Whichever it was, Sam wouldn't confront him outright just yet because this way he wouldn't get a proper answer from his stubborn little brother anyway and no one knew this better than he. Hell, Sam didn't even know about what he should talk with his brother. Before everything went to shit all these months ago, it had been so easy to talk to Adam. They hadn't had much problems finding something to talk about. Now it was almost as if they were strangers. »How’s your mom? Is she alright? Hey … If you guys need help with anything … Let me know okay?«

»She’s fine. She got promoted to head nurse a while ago.« Adam replied although Sam knew this of course. »But…« He paused in his words for a second before he moved on much to Sam’s relief. »Mom is not used to having me around so much, you know? I mean … She does her best to be there and be a mom but … with her work schedule and all of this crap, I hardly see her. Usually, when I get home she is already at work and when I leave for school she just went to bed. The only time we get together is when we meet in the kitchen for coffee in the morning before we both leave the house or when she has a day off, as rare as this is.« Adam shrugged his shoulders in a way that was so much … Well, Adam. As if it wouldn't really bother him that he was seeing so little of his mother despite the fact that they both knew that this wasn't true at all. Adam needed her now more than ever in this complicated phase of his life.

»That sucks.« Sam hummed quietly. »I remember … When I was little, long before Dad met Kate and before you came along for the ride, Dean and I were often alone too. Dad … After Mom’s death, he struggled a lot, you know? Dean told me about it a few times while growing up, mostly when I got angry with Dad and his absence. He told me about how Dad just lost it after her death, how he started drinking and forgetting to take care of us and stuff. It was all too much for him. Mom’s death, the mountain of debts he was facing for the house and Mom’s funeral, the hospital bills, two small boys that needed a lot maintenance too, the fear of losing our house … It was only thanks to Bobby that Dad got his shit together back then. He gave Dad a job after his old boss kicked him out and after that, everything started to work out again. Still we were alone a lot. Dad worked so hard back then and so much more than anyone I ever knew. Back then I didn't understand it. How could I? It only stopped shortly before he met Kate, so I grew up not knowing it any differently with Dean as the person who was around mostly. Believe me Adam, when I say that I know how you feel. I know how much it sucks not to have someone to talk to when coming home. Especially now, after everything. I just want you to know … I’m here, okay? I’m still your brother, I still love you, I still care for you, I still want to know everything you do. I know that you can't forgive me for what I did, but please give me a chance to earn back your trust.«

In the resulting silence after he shut his mouth, Sam couldn't help but wonder if he had overdone it a little perhaps. But Adam seemed still calm at his side and even as if he was actually thinking about what he had said for once. They reached Jane’s Diner at the side of the main street just twenty minutes after they left the rehab center. Until now, he had never gone down into the town ever since he moved into the house in September of the last year. He hadn't quite felt the urge to go into town and he still didn't feel it. He wanted back, honestly, but on the other hand, Sonny was right, wasn't he? He would, sooner or later, be out there in the real world on his own again and then he needed to be ready. Sonny wouldn't be there to hold his hand when he would get out and neither would be Dean or his father or even Kate or Adam or Bobby. He needed to do this alone, whether he liked that or not.

The diner was not as packed as it would be later in the day, but they were far from being the only guests either, as they sat down in one of the booths by the large window surrounded by a hand full of other people who had their noses buried into their newspapers or were talking to each other across the table. Sam had always liked these classic American diners with the red leather benches, the polished tables and the checkered black and white linoleum floor. He liked the atmosphere, he liked the gentle noise of the constant chatter around them, the clinking of mugs and plates, the sounds coming from the kitchen which could be seen into through a pass-through behind the counter. There was even a jukebox playing music from the fifties and sixties in the corner to generate a certain atmosphere. It was only now, as Sam threw his jacket on the seat beside him and leaned back heavily in the heavenly soft backrest of the bench, that it felt almost normal to be here with Adam. They weren't alone, at least, and thus the potential for a big fight almost eliminated because Adam was not a big fan of making a scene.

It didn't take them long to order their food from an elderly waitress named Grace. She was a little on the heavier side but she had a soft, pretty and very welcoming face, framed by a mane of red curls as she came over to get their orders, throwing ‘Sweethearts’ and ‘Honeys’ at them with every sentence before she left on clicking heels. »Would have bet my allowance that this would be Jane.« Adam huffed as Grace went away and managed to draw a small laugh from Sam.

»I bet that there never was a Jane and that there is no reason why it's called Jane’s Diner at all. The owner is probably the cook, overweight, smelly and sweaty and named Herbert.« Sam chuckled as he nodded towards the counter where behind the counter was the customary pass-through to the kitchen. He couldn't exactly find a guy on which Herbert's description would fit, but that didn't mean he didn't exist, right? Adam laughed at his comment and it was the first time he got to hear that sound from his brother after all of this crap happened in their lives. After the moment passed, Sam found himself in a tight spot again. He wanted to ask Adam about school again because he wasn't blind. He could see his baby brother in front of him clearly. He saw how pale he was, he saw how dark the bags under his eyes were, he saw how haunted he looked, how thin he became. Something wasn't right and not only because Dean was behind bars or because their father was dead. As bad as this all was, it was not the reason for the state Adam was currently in.

After he had taken a deep breath to steel himself, he threw all hesitation out of the window. »Adam … I don't mean to be prying.« He introduced what he was going to ask with hooded eyes as he tilted his head down a little, looking at his brother through his lashes and with a wrinkled forehead. »But you look like crap. You look like you are not okay so please, spare me, okay? I know I'm not Dean, I know you hate me for what I did, I know you hate me because Dad died, but … at least be honest, okay? I don't want anything but that from you. Give me a chance to help you.«

Adam pressed his lips into a thin line just as Grace came back with their food, two plates filled to the brim with unhealthy looking burgers and fries. Dean would drool all over them would he be here. Grace seemed to sense the tense situation between the brothers because she left right away again while the brothers still stared at each other.

»Adam, please.« Sam tried again. »I promised Dean to keep an eye on you for him. He kills me if something happens to you.« Sam didn't believe that these words were what had been needed to get Adam to talk but something in them had done the trick because, finally, his brother opened his mouth to speak up.

»There are these guys at school…« It finally came over Adam’s lips quietly as if he was still unsure if he should even talk about this to Sam. »Ever since Dean went to prison they keep taunting me at school. You know how it is in High School. I mean … I can't go a few feet without seeing Dean’s photo in some display cabinet next to some trophy! He was such a big deal at this school! You know, champion of the wrestling team and all the other crap he did at school! He was so famous in school and in the neighborhood as well. Everyone knows him, everyone knows what happened. He was such a good guy and everyone loved him and now … Now they all look at me like I’m some kind of monster, like Dean is the devil in person. It's awful, man.« As if he realized what he had just blurted out, Adam again caught himself mid-sentence and looked at Sam with big eyes again. »I mean … I’ll manage, you know? I’ll get through it. Those assholes won’t keep that crap up for too long anyway. They’ll lose interest and until then I only need to keep a low profile.«

Adam really was taking after Dean because that was exactly what Sam would have expected to hear from their big brother. »Adam…« He sighed quietly before he took a deep breath to keep his voice as calm as he possibly could while talking to his brother. It was not easy, honestly, but it was what Adam needed. A calm voice of reason and that was Sam, at least right now he was. »Adam you don't need to go through this alone and you don't need to pretend to be as tough as Dean either.«

»I'm not pretending, Sam.« Adam frowned but Sam was quick to cut him off right away.

»You are too young to know, but Dean wasn't always that cool dude you know.« The way Adam looked at him with his brows furrowed in utter confusion told Sam exactly that Adam wanted to protest, that he wanted to claim that he was not worshipping Dean as some kind of hero while they both knew he did. »Dean was actually quite shy for a pretty long time. Of course, he wouldn't show when I was around. No, in front of me and you he always acted tough and confident, but he really never was. Dean had to go through a lot while growing up too and he paved the way for us as he kept his chin up and found a way to deal with his own bullies in school.«

»Dean was bullied?« Adam asked and the face he made told Sam of his honest and heartfelt surprise. It was endearing to watch.

»Oh yes, quite a lot, actually. He never knew that I noticed it, though. In front of me, he acted as if everything was alright and as if he could deal with all of this alone, but nothing could have been farther from the truth, Adam. He struggled a lot during middle and high school and it got so bad at times that he started acting out, started to go against Dad’s rules, started to not eat properly or skip school until Dad exploded on him one time. Only then, Dean finally accepted Dad’s help because even the great Dean Winchester wasn't able to deal with his bullies on his own.«

»But I don't understand why he was bullied in the first place.« It was endearing on how much of a pedestal Adam had put their older brother and jealousy-inducing at the same time. Dean was some kind of wondrous creature that never could do wrong or experience the things normal people experienced just because he was Dean Winchester and he was, in Adam’s eyes, just nothing short of awesome. Sometimes Sam was saddened by the knowledge that he would never reach the same level in Adam’s mind.

»Oh, there were many reasons.« He said leaning back in his booth again and picking at his fries as he tried to remember. »Dean was always pretty.« He then chuckled but quickly noticed the annoyed look Adam shot him as Sam had the audacity to mock their older brother. »And not in a good way either, not like he is now, you know? Back in the day, he got picked on quite a bit for his pretty face and his scrawny physique. He was always a mother hen and as soon as his bullies got wind of that they made fun of him because of his caring nature. That grew exceptionally bad when I joined his school and Dean was then often seen holding my hand on the way to school or checking on me between classes. Dean acted as if he wouldn't care and just continued what he was doing because I was more important than those idiots but I know that he did care. He was a kid so of course he cared. But beyond that … Bullies don't need particularly good reasons, as you might now. I mean, they had many things to target Dean for. The death of our mother, the fact that we were not a particularly wealthy family and often got our clothes from the goodwill or thrift shops, the rumors that Dad was a violent drunk. It wasn't easy for us, Adam, but worse for Dean because he took the brunt of those comments and insults. He shielded me from most of the scrutiny and took care that I was always properly dressed and had my stuff in order. Needless to say I was bullied too in school, mostly for being a bookworm and being quite small most of my life before puberty took care of that.« He then laughed. »But Dean … As soon as he got wind of the fact that I was being picked on, he was there and scared those idiots away. He helped me deal with them, taught me mechanisms to deal with bullies, taught me how to defend myself.«

Adam smiled a little at this and dropped his chin down to his chest ever so slightly as he basked in fonder memories of their brother. »I remember how he took me to the side when I was eleven.« Adam quietly mumbled. »I remember how he taught me how to throw a punch and where to hit someone who wanted to do me harm and I remember how he always said to come to him or Dad or you when I got problems in school.«

»Right.« Sam nodded. »Because that's exactly what Dad told Dean too when he was fifteen and that's what Dean did when the bullying got worse. It was Dad who got Dean into the wrestling team and into kickboxing as well, just for your information. That wasn't Dean. Our brother was not born as this hero you always got to see him as. He was just like you, just like me, just like everyone else. He struggled and he was frustrated and he was angry and sad and didn't know what to do, but with Dad’s help he grew out of it and grew to become a stronger person. So … Adam, all I want you to do it to talk to someone, okay? I understand if this person isn't me, but … talk to Bobby or your mom, a teacher if there is one you exceptionally like.«

The next time as Adam looked up at Sam, he was the little brother again whom Sam had always loved so dearly and who needed his older brothers protection so much more than he could ever express. He could sense that there was something on his mind he didn't want to talk about, but at least they made some progress. »But what can I do, Sammy?«

When the day ended and Bobby picked up Adam at the rehab facility, Sam felt the best he had felt in the longest time. He had spent the whole day with his brother, walking through town, talking, thinking of ways he might be able to deal with his bullies without punching their teeth in. It was the first time in a long while that Sam Winchester did not feel like a total loser, like he had managed to actually made a difference with his younger brother, that he actually had been able to help him in some way. He could only hope that this was really the case and that Adam was not just pretending.

Still, as Sam walked with Adam to the truck that was waiting for him in the driveway, he wanted his brother to stay or at least be able to go with him. Maybe now was not the right time, though. Not yet. »So, what are you going to do now?« Adam’s question took him by surprise and even more so the hug his little brother pulled him into, standing on his toes so that he was able to reach up to Sam while his older brother resisted the urge to lift him off his feet like he used to do back when Adam was younger.

»I think I am going to visit Dean.«

※※※※※※※

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

He had a long day ahead of him. That much was certain as Dean left the cell to go grab lunch in den cafeteria. He had expected it to be like this after he just came out of the hospital. Surely, everyone knew what happened to him despite the fact that he was Castiel’s bitch. In prison, there was never open talk about who committed a crime but he was sure that everyone knew that it had been Eldon. Still, despite knowing all of this, he had not expected for it to be that much like running the gauntlet. Crude comments were shot at him from every corner when he would walk by, everyone seemed eager to say something, everyone seemed eager to rub salt in his wounds. But Dean held his head high and his back straight. He had survived the assault. Barely, that much was true, but he had survived nonetheless and the only person who could break him down, the only person who could break his pride, was Dean himself.

That was what his father used to say when Dean had confronted him about why he was begging his employer to keep him. It was a long time ago, his mother had just died, yet the words still held true. No one could take his pride away from him but he. If he decided that he wouldn't let himself get broken by what happened to him, he wouldn't break. He was stronger than this. Being a victim was a choice of sorts. He hadn't been able to stop Eldon as he had victimized Dean but he had the choice and control over the situation now and could still decide if he would keep playing the victim and let himself get beaten down not only by his own psyche but the others around him, or if he wanted to come out stronger at the end of the day.

However, thinking all this was much easier than actually living it. In truth, he wished Castiel would be with him throughout the day and never leave his side. He really did. He wished the angel would be at his side, but he wasn't. He was alone in this and even if Cas would be with him along the way, he would still be alone in this endeavor because, in the end, he could only go through this on his own because this was not about Castiel or anyone else and no one would take the ballast from his shoulders.

Needless to say, he felt naked and exposed as he sat down slowly at the table he usually occupied with Benny. There was no sign of his friend yet, but it was surely just a matter of time until Benny would arrive and tell him the latest gossip. The news of his return from the hospital had already spread like wildfire through the prison. In here, nothing stayed secret for a long time anyway. He felt the eyes of almost everyone inside the cafeteria on him, he could hear them talk in hushed voices or throwing mocking insults at him while he did his best to just ignore them and eat his fucking sandwich. He felt like he was starving and yet he had a hard time even getting his food down and having it stay down without throwing up. In all of this, he had not quite thought about how it would be to face Eldon and his goons again, but they were around him, they were sitting at their usual table, throwing glances at him. There was this awful little poisonous thought creeping inside his head as he looked in the direction of Eldon's table out of the corner of his eyes. He didn’t even know how many of them had been there when the assault happened. He didn’t even know how many of these assholes had hurt him. He didn’t know what happened after he had passed out. He didn’t know how many more had raped him, he didn’t know how many of them had seen him like this and took advantage of the situation. All of them could be complicit in what happened to him.

He felt sick.

»Dean!« Benny. Benny's cheerful voice rung through the cafeteria as if he had to announce his presence to anyone who might have not yet realized that he was back again. »Dean, my boy! Good to see you! Man, you look like you've been run over by a steamroller!« Benny laughed as he sat down across from him and placed his tray on the table between them and Dean felt suddenly unable to even move his head. His chin was tilted downwards, his eyes though directed at the food before him, watching Eldon's table still out of the corner of his eyes. His jaw felt like it was made out of iron, unmoving, unflinching and his neck was so stiff he was afraid that he would never be able to lift his head again. He felt paralyzed. Yes, that was the word. He had known that he would have to confront his demons, that he would have to deal with the situation and Eldon and the looks he got, but he had not thought that it would be this awful, that he would be unable to function, that he would feel like throwing up all over the table would he open his mouth to speak.

»Dean.« Benny's voice sounded again as he was snapping his fingers in front of Dean's face to get his attention and this time he sounded a lot calmer and quieter, worry swinging with every syllable of his word. »You alright?«

»Peachy.« He huffed because there was nothing he could do other than that after he pried open his jaws to speak. As he managed to raise his eyes to meet Benny's, he wanted to crawl under the table and never come back out again.

»Fuck … Dean, I heard what happened.« Benny finally addressed the elephant in the room because acting as if it didn’t happen wouldn’t be the right way forward, apparently. Not with all these preying eyes on him. »I'm sorry.«

»It's okay.« Dean shrugged and forced himself to bite down harder on his sandwich as he had lifted it to his mouth again. »Not your fault, not anyone's fault but mine.« He could sense that Benny wanted to say something but before he could, Dean tensed and cut him off. »Look, Benny, I feel honored that you care enough for me to find it in you to worry about me, but what happened happened and there is no way that we now could do anything about it anyway. It sucks, yes, but I'm getting over it. This was bound to happen and now we can all move on as if nothing happened. It's not like stuff like this would be rare in here anyway.«

He didn’t want to be consoled by anyone. He didn’t want anyone to treat him like a victim or a raw egg, he didn’t want people to tell him that everything was going to be okay again because it wouldn’t. It would never be okay. He had been raped by a whole gang of guys, he had been beaten so badly that he almost died from his wounds, he had spent weeks in the hospital and now he was the butt of every joke inside these halls. And Cas … Fuck, even Cas was angry. Rightfully so, perhaps. Surely, Cas felt like Dean had been playing him the entire time to get information and though this might be partially true, Dean liked him and Dean wanted Cas to get out of here to have a life with his children. He deserved it.

He had fucked everything up. Not only would he now never get the answers he needed for Agent Mills, it was also very possible that Castiel would not want anything to do with him now. Weird how much it felt as if they were a couple although they were nothing but fuck buddies in reality. Still, Dean cared for Castiel. The angel was a good guy, despite the mistakes he might have made in the past.

The way Benny looked at him told Dean everything he needed to know about what was going on inside his mind and how much he wanted to talk to Dean about the assault. It was not because Benny would be a sensationalist so to say, but because he cared. That was, at least, what Dean told himself. »Give me a little time to get back into the game, okay?« Dean asked a little quieter this time as he looked at his friend. »I can't … I can't talk about this stuff right now.«

»I understand.« And Dean believed him because after this they ate while Benny changed the topic and started to get Dean up to date with what happened during the last weeks. »Castiel was quite mad while you were away.« Benny smirked. »The whole prison took notice and no one dared to talk or even look at him the wrong way. I've never seen him that on edge in all these years. And hell … You should have seen the way the idiots looked that were talking shit about you in his presence. I think two or three of them are still in the hospital. Man, that guy is scary when he’s angry.«

»He's still mad.« Dean shrugged but stored this information in the back of his head for rainy days. »Mostly because I told him that I needed a bit more time until he can get what he wants again.« Making fun of the situation seemed to be the only thing that kept him going, painting Castiel and their relationship in this way and portraying Castiel as someone who just liked him for having a nice ass and getting to fuck him was easier to confront the reality of things. The reality was, however, that he had missed him as he had been in the hospital. Not being fucked by him, but Castiel as a person, lying next to him in this way too narrow bed, being forced to cuddle up to him, feeling his hot breath on his skin, the sloppy kisses in the morning.

Apparently, he was getting mad inside this prison and it didn’t even take half a year.

Benny wanted to say something, but the moment he opened his mouth, another voice cut him off brutally and cuttingly cold. »Dean!« His name was dragged out uncomfortably like a chewing gum that was way over-chewed and Dean froze to the core even before Eldon's hand landed on his uninjured shoulder to pat it as if they were old friends. »I'm glad to see you're back! Started to miss you!« Eldon grinned down at him and Dean did not falter as he looked up. He did not avert his gaze, he did not break down even though his stomach was revolting and his skin crawling as he grew aware of the group of men behind him and the tense expression on Benny's face. »I heard what happened, Darling. Awful, right? You know, my offer from the start still stands, Deanie. You can still join me and my pals and something like this will never happen again to you.«

Dean clenched his aching jaw so hard he was sure he would tear his muscle in doing so. Eldon's eyes were cold and his smile borderline sinister. Everyone around knew that it had been Eldon who did this to him and so his charade was nothing more than public humiliation for Dean to see if he would cave in or fight back instead.

»Go fuck yourself, Eldon.« Dean hissed and that only drew a laugh from Eldon before the other man leaned down to him a bit closer.

»Watch your mouth, Sweetheart, or I'll tear your muzzle up – again.« Eldon purred right next to his ear. »You know I'll do it and you know Cassie will not be there to help you. It was such a pleasure to hear you squeal like a pig. I'm getting hard just thinking about it. Don’t forget, Dean, I know who you are and you don’t want me to drop that knowledge on everyone around, right? You're my bitch and there is nothing you can do about it.«  

Before he left, he patted Dean's shoulder again and left Dean sitting frozen to the core in the middle of what felt like a stadium full of people who all stared at him as he was naked in the middle of the field.

As he later managed to get back to his cell, dodging comments like bullets and shoving past brawny assholes that tried to stand in his way, he sunk down in front of the toilet only to throw up everything he had consumed only minutes before.

 

**-End of Chapter 15-**


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your support so far! Things are getting serious now! Hah ... as if they hadn't been before... xD

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

The last time he had seen Amelia was shortly before Balthazar's death and even as he sat in the visitation room now and saw her on the other side of the glass, he couldn't quite believe his eyes. Much had changed during the last five years. She was still beautiful, her light blue eyes were still full of warmth and intelligence, but she was pale. Sickly pale. Her cheeks were hollow, her fingers were bony and didn’t seem to possess the strength to even hold onto the phone that she was pressing against her ear with both hands to support it. She didn’t have any hair on her head left, though she was covering up her head with a colorful blue and green scarf. Even her eyebrows were gone. There was nothing left of her lush tuft of golden hair now, the same lush golden hair their twins possessed. Her lips were dry and brittle and she was oozing sickness and yet she was here, sitting upright, still kicking, still fighting, still proud and still unwilling to give up.

He couldn’t deny the shock he had experienced as he walked into the visitation room and sat down on his chair, seeing Amelia for the first time in five years. As he had heard that he had a visitor, he had been certain it was Gabriel again. »Amelia…« He breathed quietly into the telephone in his hand. »I didn’t expect you here.« She was, in fact, the last person he would have ever expected to see here. It was too dangerous and this was no place for someone like her.

»I didn’t expect to come either.« Amelia smiled with mirth on her face. »And yet here I am. You look good, Castiel.«

His first instinct was to lie. His first instinct was to tell her that she was looking good too, but that was the thing with him, the thing that made him such an oddball. He just couldn’t lie to her like this. It didn't seem right, yet he tried to find the proper words. »You … You look-«

»Like shit, I know.« Amelia laughed and her voice sounded thin and hollow through the phone. »That’s why I'm here, Castiel.« He didn’t want to hear it. He knew what she was going to say and he didn’t want to hear it. »Castiel … I tried to keep this away from you. I know you, after all. I know that you would have freaked out had you known. I thought, if I would just be strong enough to fight through this on my own, I wouldn’t have to get you involved. I didn’t want you to sit in this hellhole and worry about me or the kids. You didn’t answer my letters and so I thought I would show up myself, to get things off my chest.«

»You are dying.« Castiel concluded so quietly he was not sure if Amelia had even heard him at first, but as surprise conquered her face for a second, he knew she had. Finally, there was another emotion than pride flickering through her eyes. Hurt. But not hurt by his maybe insensitive words, but hurt because it was the truth and she knew it.

»Yes.« She finally replied and lowered her gaze for just a second or two. »I am.« As she cleared her throat, he could hear how hard it was for her not to cry and keep her voice from cracking, the pain of this truth too raw on her face not to feel for it oozing out of her very heart, infecting his own heart with that same sickness.

»What is it?« Castiel found himself asking because putting a name to it seemed to make things easier for him, even though that was not how it worked and he had learned that early on when his father had assembled them all in the great room of their mansion to tell his sons that he had a brain tumor. Putting a name to something not always made things easier and it didn't take the pain away either, it only provided him with something he could focus his hate on.

»Breast cancer.« She breathed and a small smile flickered over her face. It was not an expression of joy but exhaustion and relief that the secret she had kept from him was out now. »We tried everything, Castiel. For two years, we tried everything.«

»Two years?« He asked but there was almost no sound to his voice as the realization kicked in that Amelia had been sick for two years, fighting the cancer and kicking its ass without him even knowing. »Two years, Amelia? Why didn’t you tell me?« There was even anger inside of him as if he had any right to this kind of knowledge as if they were in any kind of relationship in which Amelia would owe him as much.

»I thought about telling you in a letter, but … then I didn’t. I thought, I would be able to fight it and come out stronger, that I didn’t want to upset or worry you when you wouldn’t be able to do anything about that anyway.«

»I could have paid for your treatment at least!«

»You are still so sweet, Castiel.« Amelia hummed. »But the money we get from you is already too much.« Of course, Castiel had arranged everything before he went to jail. Of course, he had instructed his own private lawyer to make sure that Amelia would get paid child support and more than the minimum at that too. He was not poor by any means. His inheritance was worth a few million dollars and why should it lie around on his bank accounts uselessly when it could help his children and their mother instead?

»Still…« He found himself arguing back not knowing what he wanted to say or do anyway. »I'm so sorry. I should have been there.«

»It's not your fault, Castiel.« Suddenly, there was a thin hand pressing against the glass from the other side and with much hesitation, Castiel mirrored Amelia's gesture. He could feel that much hated burning sensation behind his eyelids and wished he would be colder than to allow this, that he would be more unfazed by all of this. »I'm here because I wanted to say goodbye. I didn’t want you to learn the truth from someone else. The doctor said I have maybe three to six months left now and I want to spend them with the children somewhere nice and warm. I want to create a few last good memories with them before I have to leave.«

»What about them? What will happen when you…«

»My friend, Jane, will take them in. We already arranged everything. Jane was such a big support for me these past five years. She has kids of her own though, the situation is tough on her and-«

»She'll get the support she needs.« Castiel immediately interrupted her, even though he knew that Amelia would have never asked for that kind of confirmation or the money at all. »For Claire and Jack. That’s the least I can do.«

Amelia seemed surprised, honestly surprised but then her face blossomed into a sad little smile again and her hand remained on the glass as if she could even feel the warmth of his skin through the thick glass. »It's such a shame, Castiel … You are a good man. And I am so glad to see you still are. And when you'll get out … Claire and Jack will want to see their father. I told them what a good person you are and they keep your picture with them everywhere they go. Sometimes I wonder how everything would have turned out if you … if you had been able to love me the same way I loved you.«

Castiel felt antsy as he was walking through the prison. He felt like there were bugs crawling underneath his skin. How would his life had turned out had he stayed with Amelia? Would he still have killed Balthazar and ended up in prison? Would he have been happier living a lie with her? His path was leading him straight outside into the courtyard where he knew he would find his brother. It was like he was following an instinct that had gotten carried over from his childhood days. He was still just a little boy going on a hunt for his older brother as soon as there was something troubling on his mind and there seemed to be nothing he was able to do about that either.

He found Gadreel outside in the yard at the basketball field, dribbling the ball and practicing dunks with no one around to join him freely thanks to the snow, reminding Castiel more than anything of their childhood.

He was almost entirely on his own out there, except for the few figures that sat huddled in their ugly blue jackets on the benches around the yard, smoking or playing cards with the guards looking down on them from their tower in a way as if they were almost hoping that something would happen that would prompt them into action for once. Without a doubt, his brother had already noticed him as Castiel was walking closer to the basketball court, realizing that the eyes of everyone around were upon him as it was not often the case that anyone would see Castiel and Gadreel interact in any way whatsoever. No one knew that they were brothers and it should remain like this too.

His brother kept focusing on the ball until Castiel was already stepping onto the field only to be passed the ball by his brother. Castiel was quick to catch it and throw it back at his brother. Only that got him Gadreel’s attention. His brother had always been a huge guy. He was by no means a small guy either, standing at six feet tall with Dean only being slightly taller than him. Gadreel, however, towered over him at 6’’2, mostly thanks to Castiel’s sometimes hunched posture. Gadreel was not the biggest guy in prison either, but no one would ever dare to fuck with him in any way. He was strong like a bull and everyone could see that.

As Gadreel caught the ball and stared back at Castiel in silence a few seconds passed with them just staring at each other with blazing eyes, which only prompted the other few inmates that were out here to get a bit more curious about what was going down. »I need to talk to you.« Castiel finally broke the silence, but Gadreel’s face remained stoic.

»Talk then.«

»Somewhere more private.«

»That's as private as it gets and I'm just warming up here.«

»Brother, please.« He tried again, keeping his voice as low and quiet as possible so that no one would hear his words. Now, that had sparked Gadreel’s interest as it seemed because his defiant stance and stare softened just enough that Castiel was able to see it but not enough that anyone else would notice. Still, his brother waisted another precious moment before he dropped the ball carelessly to the ground and walked past Castiel, knowing his brother would follow him without him having to tell him to.

They walked back inside, past the curious faces of other inmates and into the labyrinth of the prison. Gadreel led the way straight towards his own cell because, generally, no one ever dared to get close to that cell. Even Gadreel’s cellmate stayed away as much as possible during the times they were allowed to leave the cells and roam the building to work or during rec-time.

»Cut to the point, Castiel, I don't want to have wasted my time outside with your blabbering.« Gadreel hissed as he sat down on the bottom bunk in his cell while Castiel took position next to the sink across from his brother instead, leaning against the cold wall.

»It's about Dean.« Castiel replied quietly, still concerned if anyone would be able to hear them talk.

»He’s a pest.« Gadreel scoffed. »You could do much better.«

»He’s working with the FBI.« For some reason, his brother didn't even seem surprised and as he realized that he truly wasn't, he felt his stomach dropped. »You knew this.«

»I suspected it.« Gadreel breathed. »Castiel, he is an ex-cop. An ex-cop that has been thrown into jail for the murder of a drug dealer, into the same prison a bunch of the _alleged_ Pellegrino mafia is in and the thought that he was going to be set up to find evidence against us never crossed your mind? You never thought about whether Dean was getting close to you and all lovey-dovey all of the sudden because he wanted information to use against you?«

»He said his deal included me.« Castiel replied and he felt dumb even saying it. No, the thought that Dean was using him had not crossed his mind until now. At least not fully. Not to its full extent. He had been certain that Dean wouldn't have crossed the line of sleeping with him just for that. He felt incredibly stupid now that he was facing his big brother and was suddenly five years old again. He felt like a mistress that was convinced that her lover would divorce his wife for her while everyone around knew that he was just playing her. »He said … If I wanted to, if I worked with them and gave them what they needed, I would get out of here and into the witness protection.«

»They told Zach the same thing and yet his face had been bashed in.« Gadreel sneered before he rose from his spot and walked closer towards him as if to back him into a corner. »Castiel, even talking about shit like this can get you killed. We both know that Mike has his eyes and ears everywhere. If he gets even a hint of you working with the feds, you are dead before I can do anything, and the same happens to Dean too, if they don't just kill his family to teach him a lesson. Have you learned nothing about our brothers?«

He had. Castiel swallowed thickly at the lump in his throat and was still not ready to back off yet. »Amelia came to visit me.« He quieted his voice even further now.

»Your ex?«

»Yes.« He breathed and dragged a hand over his face. Although Gadreel had already been in prison back then, Castiel was still highly aware that his brother knew everything that had happened out there in the real world, including who Castiel was dating. Balthazar, he thought. Balthazar had probably supplied him with all this knowledge. »Before I got my ass thrown into this place … She told me she was expecting twins from me. They are four years old now, Gadreel. Claire and Jack.« Why was he even telling his brother this? Maybe because Gadreel was the only member of his family he could somewhat trust at least. »She’s sick. She’s dying. And … fuck … If there is a chance to get out of this place … to be able to raise my children … What should I do?« He was a small child again and asking his big brother for help and guidance, watching him out of his owlish blue eyes and trusting that Gadreel would have the answers he needed, trusting that Gadreel would know what to do.

Hit by the news, Gadreel dragged a hand over his face in the same way Castiel had done before and let out a deep wheeze instead of an answer.

»But … even if I was willing to work with the FBI … I will never be free from the guilt I loaded on my shoulders. What I did to Balthazar … What I did to all those people they brought me in the past … I can never undo what I have done, I can never … I can never wash my hands clean again … I killed our brother and … I did such horrible things. How can I ever be a good father after this?«

»Castiel.« Now his brother’s voice was so sharp it would cut right through wood but Gadreel’s eyes remained staring at the wall just a little over Castiel’s head. »Cas…« He tried again and this time his voice was almost soft as he decided to look at Castiel instead of the somehow interesting stain on the wall above his brother’s head. »The things you did in the past … you had no choice. You were forced and you know that the blame is not on you for the end result. Sure, you did the job, you cut the flesh, but who in their right mind would blame you when there was a proverbial gun pointed at your head while doing so?« He wanted to cut Gadreel off, to object to his words, but Gadreel raised his left hand to silence him before he could. »Castiel … You didn't … Balthazar’s death is not on your hands.«

»How can you say that?« Castiel hissed as he pushed at Gadreel’s shoulders to get him to move away again, only so that he could take a few steps away from the wall he had leaned against, wringing his hands in agitation. »I killed him. I shoved him … Because of me, he fell … Because of me, he died … Try as you want, but you will never convince me I didn't do it. You weren't there.«

»I wasn’t, that's true.« Gadreel sighed before he slumped back down on the bottom bunk and dragged his hand over his jaw slowly as if he was searching for the right words. »Lucifer came to me after Balth’s death. He came to gloat, Bug.« As the old pet name Gadreel had always used for him slipped his brother, Gadreel was a little too quick to continue to play it down. »He came to tell me about Balthazar’s death in detail. And Lucifer is not one to lie. We both know that he is always painfully eager to tell the truth and I have no doubts that he was telling the truth back then. He told me how Mike sent him to do his bidding, how he snuck into the house and heard your altercation, how he stayed hidden during your fight, how he watched him fall and how you fled, believing Balthazar was dead. He told me how he first killed the butler right as he was calling the police and how he then came back to our brother. Balthazar was still alive as you left, Cas.«

»No, he wasn't.«

»He was.« Gadreel seemed adamant but his voice was soft now as he looked up at Castiel again out of too gentle eyes, as if they would share the same pain. »He was just unconscious … but as Luci came…« He stopped himself shortly and for a second hid his face behind his huge hands, before clearing his throat to move on and drop his hands limply between his legs. »He was conscious as Luci came to him. He was unable to move, though. He had broken quite a few bones through the fall, including his spine, as Lucifer told me. He told me how Balth tried to talk and how he tried to get away, but Lucifer finished the job with no remorse. He used the hammer he had brought with him. He told me that, thanks to the fall and Balth’s already cracked skull, all he needed was one quick blow to the back of his head to end him. It was as easy as killing a sheep for the slaughter.« His voice sounded hollow, cracking at the end ever so slightly and Castiel had to grab the sink for support, turning away from Gadreel to brace himself on the sink, his fingers tightening around the edges so hard that his knuckles turned white in the process. He felt sick.

He believed his brother and he believed Lucifer. It was cruel and it was horrifying to think that this was how Balthazar’s life had ended. He could feel the burning sensation behind his eyes from unshed tears and he bit down so hard on his bottom lip that he felt the skin break. Balthazar had lived when he fled. Balthazar had been conscious when Lucifer, his own brother, killed him with a hammer. He couldn’t imagine the terror he had felt in this moment. All this time he had spent here … The years without his children … for what? »Why didn't you tell me?« He managed to get out but his voice was cracking around every syllable. »Why didn't you tell me earlier?«

»I didn't know how.«

»I spent-« He couldn't even talk. His throat felt so tight as if he was being choked. Castiel let out a deeply pained guttural groan before he managed to move on. »I spent … five years …« He shook his head to get his thoughts straightened out again. _»Five years_ in here … thinking I killed my brother, grieving his death, punishing myself, thinking I deserved what I experienced … Five years of pain and sorrow and regret and for what?«

Only now he managed to turn around and as he did, and as he faced his brother this time, there were wet streaks on Gadreel’s face before he averted his glance again. He was not the only one in pain. Castiel was able to see that and yet, all he could feel for Gadreel at the moment was anger and disgust. How could he have not told him?

»I was afraid, Bug.« He breathed before rubbing the tears from his cheeks and shortly sniffed before he looked up at Castiel again. This time the old pet name had not just slipped him. This time he had meant to use it, meant to remind Castiel on the good times. For the first time in years, Castiel was able to see his older brother in Gadreel again. Not some tool, but his actual brother. The same brother who had consoled him as a child, the same brother who had checked under his bed for monsters and who had switched on the light in his closet every night because of the monster inside of it. »All my life … I never wanted anything but protect you and Balthazar. And I failed.« He huffed. »I failed you both. I couldn't protect you when you were a child and because of that, you suffered through a nightmare beyond comprehension and I couldn't protect Balthazar either. I was a failure of a brother, nothing but a waste of space. And I knew that, would I tell you the truth, it would make everything worse because nothing is worse than being locked up innocent. Mike would have had you killed would you have acted up and I … I couldn't stand that thought. I couldn't stand … I wouldn't be able to stand losing you too.«

»What do you know about being locked up innocent?« Castiel scoffed. »You killed your wife and unborn child.« Suddenly, lashing out at him in his pain and confusion seemed so much easier than recognizing the pain they shared.

»I didn't.« Gadreel all but whispered and his voice was hoarse. Castiel wanted to laugh and wanted to tell him that he didn't believe his words, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. He sounded so defeated. »I didn't do it … But I am by no means innocent and I am right where I belong.«

»Then tell me the truth, for once in your goddamn life.«

Gadreel was beyond agitated at this point, so much so that his hands were shaking ever so slightly. »I worked with the FBI.« He then let out in a breath. »I … That's why I don't want you to get involved, Bug. Don't accept Dean’s offer, _please_ , I beg you.«

»That's … You’ve got to be kidding.«

»I am not.« He sighed and the sound was as heavy as if the weight of the world was finally falling off his shoulders. »I wanted out. I wanted a normal life. So, after I got the chance, I took it. I was pulled over one night for some traffic violation and brought in for questioning for some pretextual reason. Apparently, my car had been spotted close to the sight of a robbery, but I knew right away that this was just a farce and when this FBI agent came into the interrogation room … I knew I had my chance to get out and start over new. But, of course, Mike got wind of it almost immediately and, a few days later, when I came home I walked straight into a nightmare. The rest is history.«

»Who did it?« Did he believe him? He couldn't tell. A part of him wanted to believe him, another part didn't want to think that their brothers were that cruel, despite knowing it better.

»I can only assume that it was Lucifer.« Gadreel shrugged his shoulders. Back in the day, Castiel had still been in university and as he had heard of the murder and Gadreel’s involvement, he had been shocked and spent months trying to get behind his brother’s reasoning for the crime and never been able to come up with something. But he had believed what he had been told. Gadreel had always been so loyal to their family and to Mike. He had always done as Michael told him to and if Michael would have told him to kill his wife and child, he would have, undoubtedly, did so. That was what he had chosen to believe. »Mike never liked Vivienne anyway.« Gadreel added quietly. »You know how he is … Killing her and putting me behind bars for it was in his eyes the fitting punishment for trying to betray them. And if you were to do the same thing … it's Amelia and your children who will have to suffer.«

He felt like something had happened between him and his older brother and not just because finally he knew the truth about the lies he had been fed in the past. It was like the wall between them had been broken down and still … there was so much water under that bridge. Maybe they would never be as close again as they used to be, Castiel wondered as he was later trailing back into his own cell, mourning the relationship he once had with his brother and that only really died because Castiel had thought he had committed a crime, he now knew he never committed. He knew that Gadreel had blamed himself for the nightmare Castiel had suffered through as a child and he knew that this was why he had distanced himself from Castiel an Balthazar thereafter, but that was not the reason their relationship as brothers had ended.

With this conversation still weighing heavy on his mind, just like his meeting with Amelia earlier in the day, he felt tired when he finally walked into his cell. He had skipped dinner right away because he didn't feel like he would be able to get anything down anyway without throwing up. Speaking of which, as he entered the cell he could smell the distinct stench of sick in the tiny room and before he even knew it, there were hands on him. Out of surprise and instinct, he shoved at the other person before he understood that it was Dean suddenly eagerly pressing Castiel with his back against the sink so that the metal washing basin was digging into the flesh of his loins quite uncomfortably. He stifled a moan that was tearing from his throat as Dean’s hands were palming him through the thick fabric of the ugly orange jumper right away, his teeth gently nibbling at his jaw, his nose trailing through the stubbles that were framing his face.

It all happened so fast that Castiel was truly at a loss for words. He didn't even know how to react to this onslaught and so he allowed it for a moment longer than he should. »Dean« He hissed as his breath hitched in his throat. »Dean what are you-« His words were stifled by yet another moan, this time a little louder than the first as the pressure in his groin only worsened thanks to Dean’s skilled fingers. He could only wonder what had gotten into the other man as Dean was quickly taking away his fingers from his hardening member to start unbuttoning his jumpsuit with trembling fingers as his tongue was scraping down Castiel's bared throat.

And then it struck him just how wrong the situation was. It struck him how badly Dean’s fingers were trembling as he pushed the jumpsuit off of Castiel’s shoulders and this time, Castiel was a whole lot quicker to react when he caught Dean’s good hand with his own, holding it still and thus forcing the other man to pay attention to him. »Dean … What are you doing?«

»What does it look like?« Dean breathed and his hot breath ghosted over his jaw as he did in the most alluring way before Dean’s lips were upon his for the first time in weeks, catching his bottom lip between his teeth for just a second there. Castiel was aware that he was in grave danger of getting swept away by the moment and that was exactly why he turned the tables on Dean as he quickly took a hold of his hips and forced the other and still very much injured man to switch places with him as it was now Dean who was being pressed against the sink with Castiel very much cornering him. This seemed to do the trick because Dean suddenly pulled away from his lips and though he tried to play it down, Castiel was aware of the apparent fear lingering on Dean’s face for a split second.

»Dean … Stop this.« He breathed deeply against Dean’s lips but his eyes remained locked with the green ones he came to like so much these past months. »We both know that you don't really want this.« At least finally Dean was making those pouty lips again that told Castiel exactly that the message seemed to have sunken in for once into Dean’s stubborn brain. There was a God. »Talk to me.«

»There is nothing to talk about.«

»Apparently, there is.«

»Can’t a guy just want to fuck?« Dean scoffed and though his eyes remained locked with Castiel's it was clear that he was uncomfortable in this situation.

»Not after what happened.« Cas quietly replied. »Not so soon. You just came out of the hospital.«

»I'm no damsel in distress.«

»I know.« Castiel sighed before he let go of Dean and walked over to their bed to flop down on the bottom bunk. He couldn’t deny that he was half hard thanks to Dean's actions. »I know that. And I know that you don’t need me to get by either, Dean. I'm just worried.« He dragged a hand through his hair uncertain of what he wanted to say, not able to detangle his confusing thoughts. Instead, he looked at Dean, unable to look away from the man in his cell. He was undoubtedly troubled. Undoubtedly, something happened to him today while Castiel had been too busy with his own drama and although he wanted to say something, ask him what happened, Castiel just couldn’t bring himself to do it.

»I'm gonna kill Eldon.« Dean suddenly breathed and only then it dawned on Castiel that Eldon Styne, that freaking asshole, had to have overstepped the line again today. He didn’t need Dean to spell it out for him. »I'm gonna … I'll rip him to shreds…«

»Dean … You yourself said that revenge is not the right way. Don’t make it any worse. You are a good man, just because you killed that woman … you don’t have to…«

»I didn’t kill her.« It finally escaped Dean just as the doors of the cells were closed. It was time for bed but Castiel did not move an inch, instead, he just stared at Dean. »I didn’t kill her. I just … I covered for the person who did.«

There was not even a need for Dean to tell him what happened. He could see it play out right in front of him. Dean had talked so much about his family, painted such a vivid picture of his younger brothers those past two months … He knew. »It was Adam.« Castiel replied and his sigh hung heavily in the air between them as Dean nodded. Only then Dean slowly stepped towards the bed to sit down next to Castiel.

»I couldn’t … I could have never let Adam get send to jail … I was supposed to look out for them, to make sure they didn't do stupid shit. I failed. I failed them both, Cas. Sammy started taking drugs and there was nothing I could do but take them from him when I would catch him or threaten him in any way. Still, I couldn’t keep him from overdosing to the point he almost died. And Adam … It was too late when I reached Ruby's apartment. He'd gotten her address from Sam's phone and he … snapped. When I found them, Adam was completely paralyzed after what he had done. He said he wanted to talk to her, wanted to confront her about ruining his brother's life. He was so out of it, Cas. Dad had just died … He had found him too late … He didn’t mean to kill her. But she … Adam told me how she taunted him, how her lack of remorse was driving him insane. She was actually proud, you know? She had targeted Sam out of all the people on the campus and just because he was the brother of a cop and because Sam was an easy target for her. In her mind, she was sure I would let her off the hook whenever I would get in contact with her because she had knowledge about my brother that she could use to kill my career. And Adam … he grabbed a knife from her kitchen and before she knew it and before he knew what he was doing, he had slit her throat.« It escaped him all too quickly as if he was just too relieved to finally spill this secret that he had held so close to his heart for these past months. His shoulders slumped in defeat and in relief alike.

Dean stopped and his hands were trembling even worse now than ever before. »When I came to the apartment, the door was unlocked and I found Adam just standing there, the knife still in his hand, unable to process what happened. All that blood … Jesus … She had no chance. Adam was panicking as he saw me and I … I just decided to take it on me, you know? It was not his wish, it was not his choice to make. I failed both my brothers, even my father as I wasn’t there to help him in time. I couldn’t bear the thought of failing Adam again in letting him go to prison. I'm his big brother! How could I have ever let this happen? He's only sixteen … Fifteen at the time … I … I just told him to run home, get rid of his clothes, burn them if he needed to in our fireplace, take a shower … I told him that I would take care of things, and I did. After Adam left, I got rid of his fingerprints on the weapon so that only mine would remain on it as I dropped the knife to the floor next to Ruby's body … Then I called the cops.« He took a deep breath and it seemed as if there was an entire mountain that fell off his shoulders. »In court, I admitted to everything. I told the story exactly like Adam told it with me being the one who killed Ruby and Adam being at home sick after our father's death. It was easy. Everyone got what they wanted and Ruby's parents didn’t need to go through a long trial. That was the least I could do.«

As he looked at Dean now, he felt his heart aching for the other man. He could feel and imagine how hard this had to be, sitting behind bars as an innocent man. Yes, he hadn’t killed Balthazar as it had turned out today but he was still guilty. He was still a monster.

It was only later that same night when he and Dean lay together in the narrow bottom bunk, huddled close for comfort and warmth, that he decided that he would go to Gadreel again and ask him for one last favor before he would agree to Dean's deal. As he made the decision to help Dean and work with the FBI it felt like he was jumping into an abyss, like making a deal with the devil, but that was exactly what Dean did to save his brother and it was the least he could do for the sake of his children.

 

**-End of Chapter 16-**


	17. Chapter 17

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

His heart was racing as he stepped through the huge heavy metal doors and went through the security check. Never in his entire life had he ever set foot inside a prison, and he would have never thought that he would either. The guards he met on his way through the building, were gruff and tight-lipped for the most part. All they did was bark orders at him as if he was just one of the prisoners that were housed in this facility, looking at him with suspicion written clearly all over their faces. Still, Sam complied anyway and kept a level head all the way through it. It would help no one would he lose his temper on those guys and make a fuss about being frisked, they were just doing their jobs, after all, even though they were total douchebags about it.

Sam couldn’t deny that he was nervous as he walked into the visitation room. It was just like in those movies he had seen throughout his life. A row of chairs in front of small metal desks shielded to each side with a short screen that gave the illusion of privacy. A large glass window reached from the ceiling to the floor and would keep the visitors away from the prisoners as if they were inside a zoo and behind that glass were the most dangerous animals on the planet, ready to strike. Sam Winchester had always thought that how it was shown on TV could not be the real deal but, apparently, it was, at least here in Leavenworth prison. Another guard, one with a slowly balding head that he tried to cover up with the hat that went with the uniform, pointed him to one of the empty chairs. At least the room was not overflowing with visitors today. He seemed to have decided on a good day. Outside, Sonny was waiting in his old grey Buick for him. He had been adamant that Sam could go alone but Sam had refused. He was still unsure about all of this and having the security of someone waiting outside for him was a relief of sorts.

Sam crossed the rooms in a few long strides before he sat down on the empty chair, with the guard behind him barking »No funny business, okay?« at him to which Sam nodded in confusion. How in the hell should he try anything with a wall between him and his brother anyway?

His hands were sweating profusely as he sat there and waited. There was one other guy two seats to his left. A nervous-looking fella with curly dark hair, glasses and sickly pale skin. He couldn’t be much older than Adam and this was for sure not the right place for someone as young as him. He was talking to one of the prisoners, and Sam couldn’t help but notice how the prisoner shortly glanced at him, eying him up, perhaps over the screen that should ideally shield him from being stared at. Without staring at him outright, Sam wouldn’t be able to describe the man behind the glass, but he could see that he had almost ridiculously light blonde hair, parted neatly to the side of his head, his jaw was firm and his blue eyes so intensely cold that Sam felt shivers running down his spine as their eyes met for a second there.

He wouldn’t want to be locked up with someone like this for sure. This guy truly looked like a serial killer, especially with that ugly ass tattoo on his left forearm that Sam could spot because the guy held the phone in his left hand and had the sleeves of his jumpsuit rolled up as if to make a point of showing his tat. Skulls and flames. Truly ugly. The boy that was visiting him did not at all seem to fit in this scenario. Maybe they were brothers? He couldn’t think of any other reason why a nervous looking kid like him should be visiting a guy like this in prison.

His attention was drawn away from the boy and the criminal as a door on the other side of the glass opened and his brother was being led inside. His initial joy of seeing Dean was short-lived though as he saw the state his brother was in. He noticed the way his brother's eyes flickered over to the blonde prisoner only for the fraction of a second but long enough so that Sam noticed it before he slowly shuffled over to the desk Sam sat at.

He had seen Dean injured before, that was nothing new. His older brother had been into numerous fights while growing up, always provoking older kids to punch him with his smart-assery and cocky remarks. But this … This was different. Most of the injuries Sam got to see seemed already half healed and yet they were still present enough for him to notice them. Dean was wearing his left arm in a sling attached tightly to his body, like Sam used to after he once dislocated his shoulder at fourteen, and his wrist wrapped in bandages. Substantial bruising that had already faded to green and yellow was disfiguring Dean's ridiculously handsome face and neck, especially his jaw, as if someone had dug their fingers so hard into the skin there that it left marks. But Dean wouldn’t be Dean would he not smile brightly at the sight of his younger brother when he sat down on the other side of the glass, picking up the phone that was their line of communication a bit too eagerly with his right hand.

»Sammy.« His brother's voice sounded hollow through the phone and yet it didn’t lack the warmth he was so used to coming from Dean as his brother leaned in closer to the window. He seemed to flinch though at the movement and Sam was sure that underneath his jumpsuit his body was littered in bruises. Seeing his big brother like this, not only bruised up badly but in this ugly jumpsuit with a number printed on the front, made his stomach clench and he couldn’t help the burning sensation in his eyes. This was all his fault. He didn’t want to think about how his brother came to look as awful as this and he didn’t want to think why they, his family, had not been informed about it either.

»Hey, Dean.« He tried a smile but he was sure that he looked like a constipated chicken instead. Now that he was here he started to realize how hard it was to look his brother in the eye and to act as if everything was just fine and yet it wouldn’t be fair to Dean to start whining about how unfair all of this was like a little bitch. Surely, Dean knew this best of them all. He had to be brave now that he was facing him because otherwise he wouldn’t be of much help for his brother. »You look like shit.« His sorry attempt of a joke didn’t fall on deaf ears, instead his brother laughed.

»Yeah, I had a rendezvous with a semi-truck called Tiny the other day.« Dean laughed clearly playing down what really happened and Sam, though it urged him to pry, didn’t. He had no right to pester his brother and maybe he was afraid what he would get to hear would Dean answer him truthfully. »But that’s not important. How are you, Sammy?«

Of course, Dean wouldn’t want to talk about himself, he wouldn’t want to address his own problems that he might be facing inside this prison. His brother rather talked about how he was doing out there. »I'm good.« Sam replied out of routine, perhaps. »Getting better, I mean.« He then added. Of course, he knew what his brother wanted to hear. »I'm three months clean again.« He sighed and ruffled a hand through his hair. »Not gonna lie … It was even harder than the first time getting the shit out of my system, but now I am getting better.«

»I'm glad to hear that.« Dean quietly replied with a smile still on his face, even though his smile looked anything but happy. »You look good, Sam.« He then added fondly. »I can see that you are getting better. Are they treating you well at the rehab center?« Dean was always so concerned if his baby brothers were treated the way he would treat them. Some things never changed, he supposed. His brother could be lying on his deathbed and still only worry about them.

»Yeah … It’s a good place to be at. Honestly. The staff is nice and well-trained. And Sonny, the boss of the center is one of the best persons I've ever met. He actually drove me here today and waits outside to bring me back. He is very encouraging, you know? He tries to keep pushing me to leave the house more often, to lead a somewhat normal life, to integrate me back into the real society.« He found himself trailing off a little at the end there, his eyes roaming the room behind Dean for a second before coming back to his brother.

»That’s sounds good, doesn’t it?« Dean smirked and leaned back in his chair a little.

»Yeah, it does…«

»How's Adam?«

»Doing okay.«

»Sammy…«

How could he ever expect to successfully lie to his big brother? He had never been able to lie to Dean. »He has a hard time dealing with all of this.« Sam finally sighed heavily. »He's having troubles with a few bullies at school lately … He's under a lot of stress, but it's going to be okay, don’t worry Dean.«

»And what if it's not gonna be okay?«

»I promise you, Dean, I take care of Adam. When I get out of Valley Hope … I decided I move back into the old house … I mean … if you have nothing against it…« The house they had grown up in was Dean's house after their father's death and that was no secret. Years ago their father had already finished his testament and thinking about it now, he had probably already known about his heart condition back then. They all knew that Dean would inherit the house when their father would die and to them, Adam and him as his younger siblings, it had made sense and seemed fair while Dean had protested after learning about his father's decision. Oh, he had been livid when their father had sat them all down in the living room to tell them. Still, giving the house to Dean was their father's way of showing Dean his gratitude for everything he had done to help him. »I know that Adam is homesick and I thought that he might want to move back into the house as well … I promise you that I watch out for him. I understand what I did wrong, I understand the mistakes I've made and I can never make up for what happened. But I can at least try to take care of Adam.« He knew that Dean wasn’t too thrilled hearing all of this. He was probably already anxious, thinking about how he could help Adam and how he would beat up those bullies.

»I'm going to rip out their lungs if those assholes hurt Adam.« Dean groaned on the other side and that, honestly, made Sam chuckle. Oh, how often had he heard this very sentence out of his brother's mouth in the past.

»Don’t worry, I'll make sure that lungs are going to be ripped out if anyone hurts Adam.« Sam tried to console his older brother with a smirk on his face before he got a bit more serious again. »Are you doing okay in here?«

»Of course.« Dean shrugged. »It's odd how good I fit in, actually. I already collected quite a few packs of cigarettes – you know, currency. Turns out most of the idiots in here are crap at playing poker.« As if to prove his words, Dean squeezed the phone between his shoulder and ear to pull out a few loose cigarettes from the front pocket of his jumpsuit.

»You're unbelievable.« Sam scoffed. His brother looked so proud at his success. But yes, that was Dean … Somehow he always managed to find his way.

»Don’t worry about me, Sammy. I'm alright and it's not your fault that I'm here either. I don’t want you to think like this, you hear me? I am here because I fucked up. Simple as that and that’s not your fault. I just want you to get better, stay clean, stay healthy, return to college and keep an eye on Adam.« He paused at that for a second, allowing his eyes to wander around a bit as if lost deep in thoughts before he huffed a small chuckle. »And, Sammy?«

He hummed in response.

»Of course you guys can move back into our home. What good would it do anyone if it would fall apart because no one lives in it?« Our home. That was it. It was still their home, they were still a family. Maybe that was exactly what Sam had needed to hear the most these past months. Not from Kate, Bobby or Adam. From Dean. Dean Winchester had always been the heart and soul of this family and not having him with them felt like something very important was missing. How could Sam ever hope of being that for Adam?

※※※※※※※

Castiel felt like he was about to eat crow when he faced Gadreel again this time. He found his brother in the cafeteria during rec time reading a book mainly because outside it was snowing too heavily even for his brother as it seemed, which had to say something, he guessed. He could remember his older brother going about his workout routine even in the thickest of winters outside, running like a maniac through the streets. He had been so focused and determined that it had been virtually impossible to stop him. Seeing him sitting down to read a book was actually even for Castiel a little odd though Gadreel was by no means stupid in any way. Yet again there were eyes on him along the way as he moved to sit down across the table from Gadreel. His brother had surely noticed that it was Castiel who had the audacity to sit with him, but he didn't acknowledge him in any way and Castiel too kept his face as cold and uncaring as humanly possible. »You need to do something for me.«

It felt wrong to demand anything from his brother and yet it was just how things worked in their family. But still Gadreel kept his eyes trained on the book as if Castiel wasn't even there. Years of experience in ignoring his little brother had finally paid off for Gadreel in this prison.

»Eldon Styne.«

Only at this, Gadreel raised one eyebrow but that was as much of a reaction that Castiel could expect from his brother.

※※※※※※※

Dean's path right after he had left the visitation room led him to the prison laundry. After Tom's death, he hadn’t been able to work inside the kitchen anymore, the memory of what he had done haunting him whenever he had set foot into the kitchen. So he changed to laundry duty. One of the reasons why he had decided on laundry was, certainly, that Castiel was working in the laundry too, although they were hardly ever given the chance to work the same shift. The guards were probably wary that they would fuck between the dirty clothes. During this time of day, however, Dean was usually alone inside the laundry and right now, the thought of being on his own in this large room with only the sounds of the industrial dryers rumbling around him, seemed like heaven. There was just too much shit going on these past weeks.

»Your brother has a nice piece of ass on him, Winchester.« It had to be expected that Eldon Styne would not leave him alone after he had seen him in the visitation room talking to Sammy. Almost he cursed his little brother for coming to visit him because it gave Eldon another reason to harass him, apparently. Yet, he was still glad that he had been able to see Sam again. Ever since Dean got out of the hospital which only happened to be three days at this point, Eldon was hot on his trail. And yes, as he had seen him earlier inside the visitation room, he had felt his blood run cold. »But you are without a doubt the prettier one.« Dean did his best not to flinch as Eldon suddenly slapped his ass as he was walking past Dean, following him inside the laundry. »Still, such a shame that he isn't in here too, right? I would have such a hard time deciding between you two. Oh well, I might as well could fuck you both, right? And maybe I’m gonna do it soon enough.«

He circled around Dean like a shark slowly orbiting around its prey before he was directly in front of him, eying him up in that very distinct way that showed everyone loud and clear that he had had him, that he had went against Castiel and taken something that belonged to a Pellegrino and had gotten away with it. Maybe that was the worst about it. The other inmates started to get itchy again when they saw him alone and Dean, with the injuries he had, would now be an even easier prey. When Eldon Styne could get away with touching him, why shouldn’t they risk it too?

»What are you even going on about, Man?« Dean bit out in lack of a better response.

»You saw that little weirdo that was visiting me?« Eldon smirked. Indeed he had seen the teenager on the other side of that window. A nervous looking young fella who had seemed to have wanted to be everywhere but inside this facility talking to this man. »That was my brother Cyrus, bringing good news from the home front. Apparently, I’m getting out, pretty soon. Wouldn't it be lovely if I would pay a visit to your brother? What's his name again? Sammy?« Now he was grinning from ear to ear while Dean’s blood was boiling in his veins. There was a loud beeping sound that slowly grew in volume filling his ears without mercy and making him deaf to everything around him. »Or maybe I could go see the other one? Adam, is it? I bet he is just as pretty as you are kneeling in front of me with his mouth wrapped around my thick cock. Although I doubt he has the same cock sucking lips on him than his big brother has … Oh well, I can manage.«

Seething hot rage was all that Dean knew in the next moment as he shoved Eldon against one of the large industrial dryers with his good hand and slammed his forehead into his, dazing him for just a moment. He was so full of anger that he didn't even feel the pain as he slammed his own head against Eldon’s or that he thought about his disadvantage in this fight. His own pain didn't matter or that he only had one hand at his disposal to beat the crap out of Eldon. He would do it anyway.

Eldon was stunned by the sudden attack from the person he had thought would cower in fear of him for the rest of his life after what he had done and threatened to do. Dean Winchester, however, was all too eager to prove that he was not this kind of person. He threw everything he had into the attack as he rammed his knee into Eldon’s groin the next moment, hearing the other man moan in pain and doubling over, given Dean the perfect opportunity to crash his right elbow into his back and sending Eldon straight to the ground. After that it was easy. It was easy simply because Eldon had been sure that Dean would just roll over and take it, that he would go down on his knees and suck him off, hoping that Eldon would then refrain from going after his brothers when he would get out, that he had power over Dean.

He had no power over Dean, though, and that, as he realized it himself, was exactly what excited Dean to no end at this moment.

He was not thinking as he thundered his foot into Eldon’s face, he was not thinking as he was aiming straight for his head with every kick. He was not thinking as he heard the ugly crunch of bones as he broke Eldon’s nasal bone, crushing his nose with his foot in the process. He just felt the rush of blood shooting through his body, the excitement of having the upper hand and getting his revenge. It was pure, raw emotion at play. A white ringing noise filling his ears as he did that, unable to stop, unable to think straight, unable to gather what he was doing and how much it went against the things he had always believed in throughout his life. Revenge was wrong but this was more than that. This was not just about what Eldon did to him. This was about his little brothers and the threat Eldon Styne meant to them because there was no question that he was one. If he would get out of here alive, Eldon would find his brothers. He was sure of that. And even if he wouldn’t, even if it would be only a big show Eldon was putting up, Dean didn’t care. He was ridding the world of a monster.

It was this primal fear that was fueling his attack, the fear for his brothers, the instinct to protect them no matter what, no matter if he needed to go to jail to do that, no matter if he needed to kill to do that. Only this thought finally made him stop in the middle of yet another kick. Since when became it okay to cross the line out of a reason such as this? Since when did it become okay to hurt another person to protect those he loved? He was a cop! No, he _used_ to be a cop … But what was he now? He was no better than Eldon.

»What now?« Eldon groaned from the ground and Dean was honestly surprised that he was even able to speak still, let alone that he was still conscious – though barely as it seemed. »You gonna finish this or what?«

He was horrified by what he had done. Worse even than as he had attacked Tom. He was paralyzed by his own guilt and the blood on his shoes.

»I promise you…« Eldon bit out but his breathing was ragged and strained and there was blood pouring out of his mouth as Dean looked down on him, his face a bloody mess that was already hardly even recognizable at this point. Every word he was saying cost him strength that he didn’t have left. »I’m going to find your sweet little brothers and I will gut them, Winchester. I’ll make them suffer and enjoy their screams when I kill them.«

It was this that finally made him snap completely. Eldon had no chance after this. Eldon had no way of escaping Dean’s violent attack and he knew that. As Dean finally tackled him and slammed his fist down into his face it was as if he wasn't even himself anymore, as if he wasn't even in control over his own body anymore.

He himself had become the monster and that was a damn good feeling.

※※※※※※※

It was probably the first time that the other prisoners saw Castiel and Gadreel not only talk to each other but walking through the prison side by side as they left the cafeteria only minutes after Castiel had arrived there. Castiel wanted to go straight back to his cell, Gadreel was headed to find Eldon and none of them would do either, as it turned out when they came across Benny Lafitte jogging down the hallway. The man almost ran into them as Castiel and Gadreel left the cafeteria and his eyes grew remarkably, almost comically, large as he saw them together.

»Oh, hey, Castiel!« Benny managed to get out in surprise as if he had never seen him before but only heard horror stories about him - which was probably true anyway. Before either Castiel or Gadreel could react, however, Benny was already all too eager to shoot off. He was one of the very few people that actually had the balls talking to either one of them. Then again, he was a dealer. He had the balls to talk to Satan himself if necessary. »Hey … If you are looking for Dean … Just saw him walking into the laundry, didn’t know he was working again already. Oh, and since when does Eldon work in the laundry too? Never thought I would see the day Eldon Styne would be working for a living in-«

Benny never got to finish what he wanted to say as Castiel was rushing past him before the man had even ended his sentence and he was painfully aware of the fact that his brother was coming after him too with absolutely no regard for what anyone around might think of that.

They reached the laundry within a few moments but as Castiel barged into the room, ready to bash Eldon Styne’s head in, he froze right in the doorframe. The realization that his bashing of Eldon’s head would not be needed took a moment to register. Dean was still on top of Eldon as they came into the room but it was almost impossible to say if the guy really was Eldon anymore. The only thing distinguishing him was the ugly tattoo on his left forearm. There was not much left of his face.

»It appears the righteous man has finally fallen.« His brother's voice was too silent to be heard by anyone but Castiel as he was hovering behind him.

»Dean…« Castiel breathed as he slowly stepped closer but his cellmate didn't even react to him.

»Get him out of here, Cas.« Gadreel sneered. »I’ll take care of the rest.« Because that was what Gadreel always did, Cas thought. Taking care of things, that was Gadreel's job.

There was blood all over Dean’s jumpsuit and his shoes so much so that it would be impossible to smuggle him through the jail and past the guards without drawing attention towards them. After looking around the laundry room, Castiel was quick to find another almost clean jumpsuit that could fit Dean. Only after he had fetched it, did he gently pull on Dean’s right arm after he had closed his hand around his biceps, mindful not to touch his injured left shoulder. »Dean … Dean come on, we have to get back to our cell.« There was not much of a reaction again, but at least he could convince Dean to get back on his feet as he pulled harder. Though first Castiel had thought that Dean was paralyzed by what he had done, Castiel started to realize that this was not at all the case. This was different from the situation with Tom because right after Dean got back to his feet he administered one last quite heavy kick to Eldon’s chest before turning away. His face was sickly white behind the splatters of blood on his skin and his green eyes looked vacant and dark as he looked at Castiel, before starting to unbutton his jumpsuit in an almost calm and collected fashion while Eldon Styne lay dead and motionless to his feet.

They left Dean's jumpsuit in one of the open washing machines that were already full with orange jumpsuits, closing it and switching it on before throwing Dean's white sneakers into one of the trash bins and covering them with more garbage, grabbing a new pair and leaving the laundry to leave Gadreel to his work. Not once did Dean speak during all of this. He just did it. He just changed and left as if nothing had happened at all, his bloodied hand hidden in the right front pocket of his jumpsuit. Even to Castiel who had grown up amongst murderers and psychos was this chilling to witness. Maybe because this was not one of the psychos he had grown up with, maybe because this was Dean Winchester, the one truly good person Castiel had ever known apart from Amelia.

Maybe he felt this way only because it was as Gadreel had commented and he was witness to how a righteous and good man like Dean was being tainted by this place and slowly started to succumb to it. He couldn't stand the thought of seeing Dean becoming another monster in this facility. But maybe it was already too late, a nagging voice in the back of his head whispered. Dean had killed Eldon with the sheer force and strength of his body, with one hand and his feet. That was it. He hadn’t needed a weapon, his rage had been enough. The thought was as scary as it was arousing.

»I don’t regret it.« Dean's voice was silent as they reached their cell again, so silent Castiel almost didn’t catch his words, in fact. He was still so very calm that Castiel almost felt certain that he was in shock and this was the reason for his calm demeanor. But Dean's eyes were clear as he looked at Castiel again. His right hand was still bloody as he suddenly grabbed for Castiel's jaw to grasp his face with it and for once Castiel didn’t even mind Eldon's blood on his own face as Dean nuzzled their noses together almost lovingly, his lips mere inches apart from his. »I don’t regret it at all. I guess that makes me a monster now, doesn’t it?«

»You can never be worse than me, Dean.« Castiel quietly breathed against his lips before they were startled by the loud banging of a baton against their door.

»Why don’t you take a substep back there, Ladies?« They had both violently flinched at the sudden disturbance and the guard only seemed satisfied as Dean walked over to his bed and sat down, doing his best to hide the fact that he had blood all over his hands and the wrong number on his jumpsuit while Castiel turned his back to the guard to climb up the ladder of his own bunk. Just as the guard opened his mouth to say something again there was the all too well-known sound of a siren going off inside the prison. »Oh crap, not again! Jesus Christ…« With that, he left them alone and only minutes after their door slammed shut automatically. Lockdown. Eldon had been found.

For a while, they were quiet and didn’t say a word to each other. Maybe that was better too. The shock was still sitting right underneath Castiel's skin as they lay there, each in their own bunk although they had both gotten so accustomed to sharing a bunk by now. He couldn’t forget the way Dean had looked sitting on Eldon's hips like that, splattered with blood all over. He couldn’t forget this empty look in Dean's eyes that had been so very much devoid of all life and hope at that very moment. And he knew, even if Dean was calm now and seemed collected enough not to regret what he had done, he would do so in no time. Dean Winchester was no killer and yet now he was and all of this just because of Eldon Styne.

※※※※※※※

The siren kept blaring through the prison even after Dean had gotten up to wash his hands and get rid of the blood under the stream of cold water. It had taken a while in which he had scrubbed on his skin with the small bar of soap that was left next to the faucet and he had felt Castiel's eyes drilling holes into the back of his skull but refused to talk. He had meant what he had said earlier and this was not some kind of shock speaking either. He didn’t regret killing Eldon. He had meant to kill him when he had attacked him and he didn’t regret it one bit. Eldon Styne was a monster and if killing him had made him one too, so be it. At least now there was one monster less out there. He knew that Castiel was waiting for him to break down, to cry and regret his doing, but he wasn’t. He felt a strange kind of serene calmness wash over him as he later crawled back in his bed.

Eldon was dead and he felt nothing but joy about that. He had killed a man and he was not flaying himself for doing so. Maybe he wasn’t that good of a guy after all.

»He said he would get out soon.« Dean said after a while, after he had watched Cas get down to wash his face and scramble back up. »He threatened me a few days ago, told me that I would belong to him now and that there would be nothing you could do to keep me safe anyway. I already decided that I would kill him back then but when he started taunting me today … after Sammy came to visit me … after he had seen Sam and told me that he would go find him and Adam when he would get out, it was too much, Cas. A part of me wanted to keep my calm and not do it, a part of me still thought that killing him wasn’t the right way but … Man, Cas, I'm not gonna lie, killing him felt damn good.«

He didn’t even know how Castiel would react to that. He seemed so adamant that he was way worse than Dean ever could be, but how should this even be possible? Castiel was, despite his reputation, one of the best, most kind people that Dean ever got to meet. He hadn’t killed his brother, he was innocent and still he was sitting here, behind bars, trying to make sure that Dean was okay all the while Dean was here telling him how good killing Eldon had made him feel. It was not just the fact that he had killed the person responsible for the nightmare he had suffered through or the person threatening to do the same to his younger brothers and worse. He had felt powerful killing him. He had killed this man with his one good hand and his feet, with the sheer strength of his body. He hadn’t needed a weapon, just himself and damn … that was a really good feeling. So good, in fact, that a part of him was afraid of himself thinking like that. Apparently prison had started to rub off on him.

»Dean…« Castiel's voice sounded from above him quietly before he cleared his throat as if to get ready for the things he had to say. Only then, he heard movement and a second later Cas' feet came into his field of vision again as the man climbed down his bunk and decided to sit on the edge of Dean's bunk instead his back to him as he was resting on his side on the thin mattress. »I want to help you … and the FBI.«

This was unexpected for sure.

»Amelia visited me the other day…« Dean blinked in surprise at this revelation but kept his silence. He was not Castiel's wife, after all, and he had no right to demand to know everything about this man. Still, he was surprised that Castiel had not told him about Amelia's visit. »She's sick, Dean. She's dying. I know how dangerous it is to work with the FBI, but my children need me now and I can't be stuck in here for the next twenty-five years to leave them to some strangers. I didn’t kill Balthazar, that’s right, but that doesn’t mean I am innocent. I'm far from it, actually and I want you to know the truth about me. The whole truth, and then you'll get to decide whether you still want my help and want to set me free early or rather keep me here.«

»Cas … that’s not my decision to make.« He said, but in fact he was overwhelmed by this new information. Cas was willing to help him and thus the possibility of freedom had come even closer again. He could get out of here and be with his family and if Agent Mills would keep her promise, Cas would be free to be with his kids. It was too good to be true, of course and yet, Dean saw him laughing under an azure blue sky with Cas as he was grilling a bunch of hotdogs for the family waiting in his garden. Wasn’t it weird that he pictured Cas to be there? Hell … He knew that he wouldn’t see him again as soon as they would be out of here. They would get send into witness protection and that would be the end of it. Cas would be lost to him forever. Maybe it was better, and really, why should they stick together anyway?

»No, it's exactly yours, Dean. Because if I get to choose, I might do something stupid.« For a moment, he didn’t know whether to stay down or sit up, but then he decided to sit up in his bed and shuffle over to the edge to sit next to Castiel, so close that their shoulders were touching. They seemed doomed to stick together, he thought as they sat there in silence for a moment. The real problem was, that he couldn’t picture a future in freedom without this weird guy hovering around. As a friend, if nothing else.

»Tell me your worst then.« Though he said that, he didn’t quite know if he really wanted to hear it or if he was even ready to hear what Cas had to offer to him. Maybe he was afraid of having the image of Cas he had in his head ruined by the truth. Despite what he was telling himself, he knew deep down that there was more between them than just mutual attraction and the urge to satisfy one's needs.

»I … I did terrible things Dean.« Castiel said before slowly sinking in on himself, leaning forward and clasping his own hands as they fell between his open legs. He was a man tortured by his demons and that was obvious to Dean because he had seen it before numerous times. In himself, his father, Sam and so many of the criminals he had brought to justice. »There is really no nice way to say it, Dean. You probably know already that my family has their hands in horrible crimes. Prostitution, drugs, murder, bribery, blackmail, kidnapping, torture, and organ theft and trafficking. It wasn’t like I chose to take part in any of this but I was involved in the organ theft. My brothers took advantage of my medical training, so they put me to work when I was still in college and kept me doing it until I went to prison. I was the one who cut people open and rip out their organs, Dean. I was the one who killed innocent people who didn’t even know what happened to them. I was the one taking those people from their families. That was all me. I cut them open, took their hearts, their livers, their kidneys, their lungs, their eyes, everything they got to give, I took and there is no way in hell I will ever be able to repent for what I've done. No way.«

Even as he looked at him only from the side, he could see the desperation clinging to Castiel's pale face. He wasn’t even looking at him, but instead just staring at his own hands in his lap, he could see the horror lingering on his features, the regret and fear that Dean might start to see him as the monster he believed himself to be. While the siren was still blaring outside their cell, Dean could see the moisture glisten in Castiel's blue eyes while he just stared at him, taking in his confession for what it was at first. There was no way of denying it that he was indeed surprised, yes, shocked to hear this, to realize that Castiel had destroyed so many lives and killed so many people for his family, butchering them, pretty much and putting those lives on sale. But then again, he believed Castiel when he said that he hadn’t done it out of his own free will.

The fact that he was telling him all of this now was enough to convince Dean that he was telling the truth. He could have kept his mouth shut instead and not bother telling him at all. He could have worked with the FBI, get out of here early and never bother telling him a truth that might have caused Dean to revoke this part of the deal and to instead use this additional knowledge against Cas. Castiel could have walked out of this prison, never looking back, parting ways with Dean forever without batting a lash. Yet, he decided to tell him. That did mean something, didn’t it?

The moment Dean took a deep breath and cast his eyes on the ground, he could see out of the corner of his eyes how Castiel flinched ever so slightly, expecting to be insulted and rejected, perhaps, closing his eyes just slightly as if he had already come to terms with the fact that this weird thing they had would now be over. That thing that neither one of them dared to put into words out of fear it might get taken from them all too soon. It took Dean a moment to realize why that was and it took him another moment to find the courage to ask what he was going to ask.

»You in love with me, Cas?« He asked quietly, his eyes still cast downward and there was no reaction coming from the man beside him other than that he was pressing his lips into a very thin line, setting his jaw as if he wasn’t even able to answer him. To Dean, this was the only explanation for all of this and somehow, this didn’t even scare him. Why should Cas care about what Dean Winchester, some random ex-cop and prison inmate thought of him, if there wouldn’t be more at stake for him? He just took another deep breath, closing his eyes to steel himself for what was next while Castiel looked as if he was expecting a punch the moment Dean opened his eyes again. »Cause, you know, if you are … Well, that’s the best news I've heard in a long time.« It was this what broke the man sitting beside him and it was clear as day, written all over Castiel's stupidly handsome face. It was written in the way he looked to the side, showing his teeth in a smile that seemed too torn between joy and relief and pure and all-consuming desperate fear.

And this was so very much Castiel, that Dean was unable to look away even for a second.

 

**-End of Chapter 17-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you are wondering, this Picture was the inpiration for the last part of this chapter.  
> https://www.pinterest.de/pin/497999671290151808/


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, shit's getting real.

**Lawrence, Kansas**

Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, Adam still saw it all play out right in front of him as if he was still trapped in that day and the events that had taken place and still he was unable to do anything of what happened, no matter how often he went back to that day. »Winchester!« A voice he, sadly, knew all too well, ripped Adam from his thoughts as he walked down the stairs to the entrance of his school now that his school day was, thankfully, over.

He didn't stop, of course, simply because he knew what it would mean if he would stop and face his bullies. It would be plain dumb would he stop and face Jake, Tom, and Justin, so he moved on, down the stairs and towards the gate, knowing fully well that he was being followed even before a meaty hand closed itself around his left biceps to finally stop him.

»Not so fast Winchester.« Jake barked as he forced Adam to turn around and face him. Jake was a tall lanky redhead with a face only a mother or a very desperate girl could love, although he was of the opinion that he was a superstar, member of the basketball team of his school, as was quite evident by the jacket he was wearing and his general attitude. »What was that crap you pulled this morning, huh?«

»I have no idea what you mean.« Adam was quick to reply and was not dumb enough to pull away immediately. Instead, he kept his ground and held onto the strap of his backpack with one hand, taking Sam’s words to heart as it came to not to show his opponent how anxious he really was.

»You talked to Angelica.« It came out as if he was declaring Adam to be the antichrist in the flesh and already Adam felt his stomach turn but kept his face a calm and relaxed mask. Jake was after Angelica for quite a while now and every guy who dared talking to her or looking at her the wrong way was doomed. They had dated shortly, but Angelica was, thankfully, not stupid.

»So?«

»You don't really think she would give a loser like you a chance, right?«

»If I'm such a loser, then why are you even concerned about me talking to Angelica?« Adam hissed and shoved back at Jake finally, aware of the fact that he was surrounded by three big guys as Jake was flanked by his two loyal lackeys who too were a part of the basketball team but much more muscular than Jake himself and looked like his bodyguards most of the times, reminding Adam painfully of Crabbe and Goyle from the Harry Potter books. They were equally stupid too.

»You hear that, guys?« Jake suddenly grinned as he looked at his friends. »You think you’re tough Winchester? Channeling your murderer of a brother, huh? Trying to be like big ol’ Dean?« It was the next shove that prompted Adam into action for once and he did as he had been shown by both his big brothers. The punch came naturally as he thundered his fist into Jake’s face and the surprise of this managed to get Jake off-balance immediately but he was quick to react and punch right back, knocking the shorter and much lighter Adam off his feet and throwing him to the ground.

Well, it had been worth it.

Even the kicks he received to his stomach and ribs right after this, had been worth it. »Jake!« A shrill voice interrupted them. »Jake Macintosh!« It was this what prompted Jake to stop kicking him as Angelica rushed down the stairs. Angelica Thompson was actually one of the very rare people who still talked to him as if nothing had happened that past year while everyone else usually stared at him as if he had lepra. »Stop this bullshit right now! Don't you have anything better to do than that?« Jake’s gaze lingered on Adam for a little while longer with a snarl before he spit on the ground right next to him, probably with the intent of hitting him, before he stepped away from Adam quite quickly. After all, he still hoped for a second chance with Angelica despite the fact that she had dumped him royally in front of the entire school last summer.

»That's not the end of this, Winchester. Next time there won't be anyone to protect you, you pussy.« Jake snarled before he and his posse left them behind to leave the school’s perimeter. He was just about to get back to his feet as Angelica came to help him up. He offered her a cocky smile in return but accepted her helping hand as she hurled him back to his feet.

»Thank you, but I had him right where I wanted him.« He smirked before patting off the dirt from his clothes.

»Yes, I could see that!« Angelica smirked. »And don't get the wrong idea, Adam. I didn't want to help you at all, but I felt sorry for Jake and didn't want him to get seriously hurt by you. It was clear that this could only end bloody for him.«

»Ah, I see … Yes, that was awfully nice of you.« He huffed scratching his neck awkwardly although he tried his best to avoid doing just that as much as he could, usually. Angelica tilted her head to one side ever so slightly, smiling at him almost gently, her long flowing dark hair falling over her left shoulder because she was wearing the strap of her backpack on her right shoulder. As Adam grew aware of the warmth in her chocolate brown eyes and the way she looked at him with that same warmth, he was quick to avert his gaze instead now. »So … anyway … I better get going now … I guess.«

»Your nose.« She chimed up again with that same smile of hers as she pointed at his face with one slender, well-manicured finger.

»Huh?«

»Your nose is bleeding.« Angelica said quietly and before he knew it, she held a tissue out to him which he took only oh so very reluctantly, muttering a silent thank you again. »Adam … Tell me, would you like … I mean, you know, Valentine's Day is right around the corner now … And I do not have a date for the school dance yet … But … If you would want to go, then…«

It wasn't like her to beat about the bush and though Adam’s heart was racing, his instinct kicked in. »Oh … thanks, Angelica … For asking … But, I don't think I’m going… Sorry.«

Her smile faltered a little but she still put on a brave front as she was looking at him now. Then again, there wasn’t much bravery involved, Adam thought. She was one of the most popular girls in school and certainly this was not about needing a date but about pitying Adam. He appreciated the gesture, though and tried not to feel bitter about it. »Oh … No, it's cool, Adam. Totally fine.« They shared an awkward nod before Adam turned around to leave. Of course, he would like nothing more than going to the dance with someone as pretty and nice and kind as Angelica Thompson, but in the end, Adam could never quite shake off what was happening in his head.

Would Dean be here, he would encourage him to ask her out, to go to that dance with her despite not being a very talented dancer. But there was just too much going on inside his head, that wouldn't allow him to enjoy himself. Too much guilt that he had loaded onto himself. Maybe his brother, Dean, would tell him that he was being stupid. He would tell him that he went to jail for Adam’s crime so that Adam could actually live his life and not throw it away and that he should take this opportunity with Angelica, that he should go with her and live his life and stop punishing himself for something that wasn’t going to change anyway.

He was already a few feet away from Angelica, when he turned around yet again. She still stood where he had left her to grab his bike. His mom had given it to him for Christmas because he now had no one to drive him to school and because he didn't like to use the bus. She had her phone out and was typing something. »Angelica?« He called out to her and her head whipped up in surprise. »I…« He began but decided to step closer again, because it just wouldn't be polite to shout all over the yard. »I … Maybe … If you’d still like to go to the dance with me … I could give it a try. But I warn you! I’m the worst dancer in history.«

»Then we can be bad together.« She smiled and as Adam finally mounted his bike to get the hell out of dodge, he actually felt as if, for once, he was on top of the world again and acutely aware of how bad this actually was for him to think after everything that had happened last year. At least he could always rely on his mind to pull him back down to earth every time he had a semblance of feeling good again. How could he even think about having a date on Valentine’s Day after he could still see Ruby’s dead eyes staring back at him every night in his dreams? It all seemed so pointless all of the sudden as he was driving down the road on his brand new bike. He wanted to be excited about this date with Angelica and tried to think of the advice he would get from Dean for this date, but his mind didn't allow him to.

For once, however, Adam did not get the chance to flail himself on his way home because the moment he rounded the next corner to leave the neighborhood the school was located in and drive down one of the more deserted country roads with his bike, he was suddenly startled by the sound of car wheels squeaking on the street right behind him, speeding after him. His first instinct was to go faster, even though he didn't even think anything malicious was about to happen. It was probably just some jerk that needed to speed in a quiet road like this to get as quickly to his destination as possible and, of course, he was aware that he would never be able to outspeed a car so he didn't even quite bother to try it. It was only when he realized that the car was not shooting past him at all but stayed close behind him after Adam already drove as close to the right side as possible without driving straight into a ditch, that something was terribly off. So he forced himself to go even faster. That was when it happened. He lost his balance as the front wheel of his bike hit a frozen patch beneath the snow on the ground. Gladly, he didn't take off over the handlebars but instead started to swirl badly, unable to get the control back over his bike before he and his bike finally crashed into the next ditch on the side of the road.

It all happened so fast that it was still a blur as Adam found himself buried under his brand new bike on the ground, snow seeping through his jeans and his entire body hurting all over. He could hear how the car came to a screeching halt and was almost certain that the driver just stopped to either look if he was alright or throw insults at him for being a stupid asshole, depending on how decent a person the driver of that car was. He felt a bit dizzy as he grabbed his head with a pained moan and tried desperately to get his head back on straight.

He was still confused and dazed as he heard the doors of the car opening, several at once before footsteps came rushing at him. He expected that those people would rush over to help him up, instead, before he knew it and before panic could properly set in, he saw that the men approaching him had their faces covered with masks. It was this moment that he wanted to squirm away but was immediately knocked out of it as one of the men swung a bat straight at his face.

※※※※※※※

**Lawrence, Kansas**

The tension inside the house was so thick it could be cut with a blunt knife. Sam felt as if his organs were burning up inside of him. He felt sick to the stomach sitting on the couch in Kate's living room, staring blankly at a photo of his little brother right across the room on the mantelpiece. He knew that thinking, that he should have been there to protect Adam was stupid and that there was no way in the world that he would have ever been able to stop this or be there when it happened and yet, this was just how he felt. He had failed his little brother yet again and if Dean would be here, he would rip off his head for not taking better care of the little one.

Kate was in the kitchen across the hallway, making coffee for the police officers that were swarming her house and searching through Adam's stuff. He felt like he was trapped in a horror movie. Adam had not come home from school yesterday and, apparently, no one had noticed. Kate had been at work the whole night and hadn’t noticed that Adam didn’t come home until she had been called by his school the very next morning to inform her that Adam had not come to school that day. Of course, she had called Sam and Bobby, asking if Adam was with them, perhaps before the realization had struck all of them that Adam had vanished. The police had refused to look into the case immediately but as night fell and Adam still wasn’t home, they had finally started looking for the teen.

Hours ago, the police had shown up at the house again, with Adam's brand new bike but without Adam and that was when the real horror of the situation had started to sink in.

Sam had arrived yesterday afternoon. He hadn’t been able to sit still and wait at the Valley Hope after Kate had called him that morning and apparently, Bobby had felt the same thing, with his wife arriving earlier this night too to look after all of them and making sure that no one would do anything stupid. Karen was one saint of a woman. Now it was already way past midnight and the police was still investigating and searching the house as if they assumed Adam might be buried under the floorboards. It was all too much.  

»Sam.« Bobby's voice pulled him from his frantic thoughts and as he looked up at him, the old mechanic leaned in the door with a cup of coffee in his left hand and another in his right. »Everything alright, Son?« Nothing was alright! How could he even ask such a question? Sam wanted to yell at him, instead, he pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded with his jaw shut and clenched so firmly that it actually hurt.

»Doesn’t look like it.« Bobby sighed and walked over to the sofa to sit down next to him, placing the second cup in Sam's trembling hands. He hadn’t even realized that he was trembling or that he was popping his knees up and down nervously. It was all too much. He needed something to get his head straight, he needed something to calm him. He needed …

»Adam is gone … How could anything be okay?« He managed to get out through between his teeth. Another search crew was currently rummaging through the house he had grown up in and it felt all so very wrong. »It's too much, Bobby. It's all too much … I don’t know if I can … What if he … I can't go through this … I can't deal with it … I need …« Yes, what? Oh, he knew what he needed now and Bobby knew it too. They all knew. Even Kate and Karen who shot him worried looks whenever they passed him as if he was about to pull out a syringe straight from his pocket or swallow a bunch of pills. He was unstable and no one knew this better than he did.

Even as Bobby laid his big warm hand on his trembling shoulder, it could hardly console him. He felt cold. He was freezing. Outside it was snowing and no one knew where Adam was. It had been snowing since last night since Adam vanished, since he hadn’t returned home safely from school. His bike had been found in a ditch on the side of the road, covered almost completely with snow. And Adam was out there somewhere and it was cold. What if he was hurt? What if he was lying somewhere and no one could find him? He wanted to get up and do something. How could he just sit here and do nothing? He had to do _something_!

»Deep breaths, Chipmunk.« Bobby hummed close to his ear as he pulled Sam closer with his one arm, taking a sip from the cup in his other hand as Sam clenched his fingers around his own mug. Although he was much taller than Bobby Singer, suddenly he felt tiny as Bobby closed his one arm around his shoulders so tightly. »Deep breaths.« He repeated and Sam did what he was told, forcing a lung full of air deeply into his stomach before shakily exhaling. It didn’t do much to calm him down at all. He was still shaking but Bobby never let go of him at all.

»We have to tell Dean, Bobby … He needs to know … Dean must know … He…« Sam would never be able to tell Dean that he had lost their younger brother. Because that was what it all boiled down to ultimately. _He_ had lost Adam. He had been supposed to look out for him, to make sure that he was okay, that he was safe and now he was gone and probably dead, lying somewhere under a thick blanket of snow. Hell, he could almost see it right in front of him! He could see Adam lying there in the snow with his light blue eyes staring emptily into a dark starry sky and his skin white as the snow around him.

»Deep breaths.« Bobby hummed and the timbre of his voice resonated within Sam as if he was standing right next to a speaker and listening to a bass being played on stage. »Making yourself sick with worry will not help anyone, Sam. We can only wait here and hope for the best. And you need to be strong now, for your brother.« It was a nice way of saying 'don’t you dare relapse while Adam is gone, Boy' because they all knew that Sam was close to doing just that. Having the poison run through his veins would make it all easier for him now and he knew that this was a worry that even Sonny had shared when he allowed Sam to leave the house for such a long time. They had agreed that Sam would call every few hours but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Yet, this was probably the ultimate test for his rehabilitation, he assumed. If he couldn’t cope with a stressful situation on his own out here in the real world without falling back into the trap of taking drugs, he would never be clean, he would never have a successful life. He fucking needed to get his shit back together. Yet, it would be so much easier to slip out of this house and instead go to find someone who could give him what he wanted right now more than anything except getting his brothers back. Both of them and preferably in one piece as well.

»But we cannot just sit around and wait for something to happen, Bobby, can we? I need to do something, _anything_.«

※※※※※※※

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

There was a shift in prison and it was noticeable to everyone, even to the guards, but they were wise enough not to do anything about it. Had Eldon’s gang-dominated parts of the prison for the last years after winning them over from their rivaling gangs, now they were losing ground quickly, after Eldon’s death. Nobody said it, nobody would dare to say it, but everyone knew, or at least assumed, that it had been Dean Winchester, that new guy who had been made Eldon’s bitch earlier in this new year, who had killed his assailant. The way most prisoners looked at Dean these days or paid him their respect when he was walking by, told this story of young man who had slain a dragon quite clearly. After that, Eldon’s goons too had been picked up one after another, slowly and over the course of several days. Every last one of those who had been involved in the attack were slowly going down and Castiel, truly, enjoyed the terror he would see walking through the prison on the faces of the remaining men.

Dean had asked him about those deaths, the other day, but Castiel, with a pure consciousness, had told him that he was not the one killing those guys. No. Not him. He was not the one wielding the knife. But he only needed to point and they would fall. He couldn't deny that it felt oddly satisfying to have so much power at his disposal. That he just needed to whisper into Gadreel’s ear and have his brother arrange the deaths of the men who had dared to touch Dean and this thought scared him. Especially now that he was talking to the FBI regularly. He didn't wish to squander his chances of freedom and of seeing his children. Amelia was writing to him again every week and this time, he would not throw away her letters but he would cherish them for his children in the future, just like the photos she would send with them.

Agent Mills was exactly like Dean had described her to him. Her eyes were sharp and she would not buy any kind of bullshit. She would have had a field day with Balthazar and Castiel would have been curious to see who would give up first in a battle of wits between them.

First, she had been wary of him and rather skeptical of his motives and Castiel, though socially a bit more awkward than most people, had seen that straight away. Only after he had begun to open up to her about his crimes, about the organ theft and how he had been forced to do it but was still willing to pay the price for his involvement, she had started to warm up to him and the idea of releasing him. He didn't quite know if she really believed her, but she had made a deal with Dean and subsequently with him. He would get out of here if he could deliver enough evidence to destroy the structure that was his family as a part of the organized crime. And deliver he did.

Castiel had spent hours and hours in that small room with Agent Mills, hidden from prying eyes and ears, every meeting taken under as much secrecy as possible. He had told her everything he knew about his family and the larger businesses connected to it. He had told her about the bribe money flowing into the police force and the government, about the porn industry connected to them, about the human trafficking and about everything else that was happening behind closed doors. All of that he had told her without having a proof that she would keep her end of the bargain. He trusted her. Maybe that was stupid, maybe that was naive, but it was all he could do in this situation. It couldn't get any worse as it already was anyway. And, hell, it had felt darn good to spill and spill and spill until there was nothing he could say anymore.

The only thing he didn't tell her about was the night of Balthazar’s murder. He had told her about the reason for their fight, but not about what really happened as Gadreel had told him. She would probably not believe him anyway.

Castiel kissed Dean's temple as he pulled the other inmate's bottom half towards him, rolling his hips in turn and enjoying just this moment of silence as they were alone in the showers with no one to actually catch them in the act for once. It hadn’t been his idea to do anything at all except shower but when Dean had drawn him into one of the most desperate and hungriest kisses that Castiel had ever received which had prompted the hand full of other guys in the showers to hastily leave under Castiel's dark glare, how could he have kept his hands to himself?

Dean was grinning even wider, arching his hips, his half-hard length against Castiel's leg as Castiel's hands slid carefully over his chest and stomach. It was lazy and nice to just stand under the spray of hot water with the steam collecting around them, being able to touch Dean like this and imagining how it could feel would they be free. There were no secrets between them anymore and, apparently, nothing that Castiel could tell him would scare Dean off. »Cas« Dean huffed against his lips before he found his nose nuzzling his jaw instead. »Stop playing around … We don’t have all day.«

Which was a shame, really. Castiel raised his brows in excitement, a slow smile starting to form on his lips as his hands went straight to Dean's hips, grabbing hard before he turned him around in one swift move to push Dean against the tiled wall. Cas couldn’t resist pressing his body against Dean's backside and brought his fingers up to the other man's plump lips that he already missed feeling on his jaw. There was not even the need to tell Dean what to do with his fingers as he opened his mouth and took them in, closing his eyes as his tongue swirled around them, flicking the tips teasingly before he pulled back. They had danced this tango so often that they wouldn’t need to talk at all during it and yet, Castiel was still worried that Dean was taking all of this too far too fast. And yet, his body quivered eagerly as he reached down, fisting his cock and letting out a dark moan.

He knew that it would get them nowhere would he ask Dean again and again if this was really what he wanted to do, barely a month after the assault in December. Dean would deny having troubles with it now that Eldon was dead, although they both knew that he was still suffering from nightmares. Yet, maybe this right here was exactly what Dean needed. Castiel took his fingers and slid them between the crease of Dean's ass as he kissed below his shoulder blades, trying to kiss away the tension in his back, as he circled the pad of his middle finger around the warm, puckered entrance before sliding it in - no rush or extreme force behind it, he kept it careful and smooth so it didn't hurt, painfully aware that he hadn’t even been this gentle their first time around.

After a few moments, the tight ring of muscle seemed to loosen a bit so Castiel slid a second finger in, pumping them in and out slowly as he worked Dean open carefully and considerate of his previous injuries. Maybe he was focusing so much on Dean and how he felt that he almost forgot himself in the process although the blood was already rushing through his system and straight into his already painfully hard cock.

»Fuck!« Dean moaned yet again as he choked on air and grabbing for support on the wall which he just wouldn’t find, licking his lips as his body rocked back onto Castiel’s fingers to bring them in deeper than before. »Come on, man, let’s do this already, just stuff the goddamn thing in.« His voice was husky with want and Castiel decided that no one could ever blame him for wanting that man just as much as the other way around.

Still, he was hesitant as he pulled his fingers back out slowly. »Are you sure?«

»No, I just enjoy winding you up while being fucked with your fingers.« Dean groaned and shot a glare over his good shoulder. At least he didn’t need the sling anymore. »Cas, come on, I'm good, Dude! Stop treating me like a pansy and do it.«

»As you wish.« Castiel hummed tentatively, spat in his hand and started applying a generous amount of saliva to his cock even though that barely did anything anyway. Castiel gingerly inched in closer to Dean again, barely teasing his cellmate with the head of his cock before lining himself up with Dean’s heat.

With one hand flat against the small of Dean's back, Castiel started pushing in, the grip of the muscle causing him to groan as he continued to press himself in to the hilt and tried not to think about the injuries that had barely enough time to heal, at least in Castiel’s own eyes. Still, since this was exactly what Dean seemed to want, Castiel would make sure that every proof that Eldon Styne had ever possessed this body would be melted away until even Dean would forget about the horrors he had survived.

Dean let out a tight, heated breath as he groaned out his name, yet did his best to keep his body relaxed, ignoring the slow burn of Castiel pressing into him while he himself continued the tantalizing jerks of his cock. As Dean dropped his forehead against the wall in front of him, making the bones of his shoulder blades protrude now more prominently than ever, Castiel could not keep himself from biting down softly into the skin that was so willingly presented to him.

Castiel kept silent for the most part, aside from the groans and heavy breaths he let out due to the death grip around his cock, but he started to move - slow, calculated thrusts as he grabbed at Dean's hips to get more leverage, always keeping in mind where they were and that they could get caught at every given moment. It was not a secret that they were sleeping with one another, it was no secret that stuff like this happened a lot inside the showers and yet the guards generally did not like to see stuff like this.

It was hard to think of something else than of the heat of his cellmate wrapped around him so tightly as he allowed his head to roll back ever so slightly, staring at the white ceiling through the mist of the hot water, while he tried desperately to imagine that they were not inside a prison but instead free, maybe under a starry sky, somewhere out in the open where they could feel the grass of a meadow underneath their feet and between their toes perhaps even. Sometimes he was glad that Dean couldn't read his thoughts.

Only as Dean rocked back against him during one of his deeper thrusts, he drew a deep moan out of Castiel’s throat, making him all but forget about the meadow and the starry sky but bringing him back to reality almost a little too painfully. Hell, ever since he had learned the truth about Balthazar’s death, ever since Dean had offered him an opportunity to forgiveness and freedom and a real future out there under a clear blue sky, that was all he could think about. Being free again. Not being chained down by his brothers even. Yet, Castiel knew that this was but a dream.

He could feel how Dean was slowly losing it and all but hissed in his ear because of the sounds that were spilling out of him that were driving Castiel insane in the best way possible even though to him it wasn't exactly new that Dean was very vocal during sex, much to the delight of the guys in the neighboring cells. He let his hand glide up Dean’s chest, then raked his nails down the soft skin as he slammed himself into the former cop mercilessly drawing only a choked sob from Dean in the process.

»Fuck, Cas!« He breathed and Castiel noticed how his left foot was slipping a little on the wet tiles as Castiel kept hammering into him, trying to make him forget everything that happened, eager to erase every mark Eldon might have left on this gorgeous body. Dean was still his and even to Castiel, this was far beyond anything he might have ever imagined. »If you dare to slow down now … I’ll swear … I’ll murder you, Cas.« Dean managed to get out between his thrusts but only drew a low chuckle from Cas in response. Being threatened with murder during sex was also not new to him ever since this thing between him and Dean started.

He tried not to grin from ear to ear as he panted breathlessly and continued to fuck into Dean, his hands gripping his hips once more so hard that he would probably end up leaving marks on him - not that he didn't want to do that, of course. Fuck, if he had his way, he would mark him all over so that everyone would be aware who Dean belonged to and so that no one would ever dare do as much as look at Dean the wrong way again. It was new to him to feel so oddly possessive over another person and yet he liked it too much to honestly care. Maybe a part of him even wanted Dean to marvel at those marks and remember who had fucked him stupid.

Castiel leaned forward again and bit down hard on his right shoulder, making Dean gasp in pain for just a quick second, though he was doubtful that it really did hurt him. He was close now. He could feel the dull heat building up inside of him every time he slammed into Dean now. »I’m close…« He breathed against Dean’s wet skin over the sound of their skin smacking and he did not need verbal confirmation that Dean felt just the same. He didn't see it, but he was well aware that Dean was touching himself while Castiel fucked into him. The way he shuddered betrayed him just as well as the deep immoral moans coming from his throat.

Dean was so loud that Castiel was almost certain that a guard would come running any second now, as he pushed back against Castiel again. All kinds of sounds and curses were spilling out of him, accompanied by painful whimpers and hissing sounds between his teeth as Dean was bucking into his own hand as he came, groaning as the splatter of cum hit the tiled wall. Castiel had no chance as he felt how Dean tensed around him so suddenly and almost painfully hard, practically forcing his own orgasm out of him as he pressed his forehead to Dean’s back in a shuddering moan of his own. His movements stilled after just a few seconds and he lazily wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist just to keep him where he was for just a second longer now.

»You are very loud…« Castiel hummed against the slippery skin of Dean’s back before he pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. »Not that I’m complaining or anything, though.«

Dean just laughed at this as he arched back, forcing Cas to lift his head drowsily before Dean managed to draw a kiss from his open mouth. »Just you wait until we are free again and don’t need to keep quiet anymore.«

The stupid part of his brain wanted to ask Dean if this was Dean’s way of promising or at least offering him to stay together when they would leave prison. Castiel’s confession still lingered between them unspoken but it seemed clear to Dean how Castiel really felt for him at least and it was hard to deny that he had hit the nail on its head as he had confronted Castiel about his feelings a little while ago. Still, they had not discussed it further and although Castiel did not know if he could ever hope that his feelings would be reciprocated, he was hopeful now.

»That's a threat?« Cas breathed against his neck instead of looking at Dean again. He enjoyed being able to feel his heartbeat thundering against his lips as he pressed them to Dean’s throat, feeling just how alive he really was.

»That's a promise, Angel.«

Well, maybe there was a future ahead of them. And yet, Castiel was careful not to get too lost in this feeling of hope that Dean managed to get him to feel for once after endless years of living a nightmare. He was not naive enough to hope for anything but the life he already knew. Good things never happened just like that. »Happy Birthday.« He found himself mumbling against Dean’s skin and wished, for once, that this moment would last forever before the world could come crashing down on them again.

※※※※※※※

It was dark, incredibly dark. He would be able to cut through the darkness with a knife if he had one. Of course, that was not the case, though.

»Adam Winchester.« Adam's head flinched up but that did not change anything about his situation. He still couldn’t see a goddamn thing. »Or is it Milligan?« It was a man and he didn’t wait for an answer because he didn’t want to hear anything anyway. »Son of John Edward Winchester and Kate Milligan. Brother of Dean Michael Winchester and Samuel William Winchester. What's up with you, Adam? No middle name? Breaking the trend here, boy-o? Or didn’t Daddy love you enough to give you one? Let me tell you … I know how that feels, Cutiepie.«

Suddenly, there was a violent tug on his head and it felt like his head was ripped off clean from his neck before he realized that it was a sack that had been over his head the entire time, throwing his world into complete darkness. Now that it was removed, the light was blinding and he had to blink heavily to not get his eyes burned out of his skull by it. He couldn’t even see a damn thing at first before the room he was in slowly took shape around him. A grey cubicle with bare walls and a steel door right in front of him. He was tied to a chair and the rope was cutting into the flesh of his wrists as he sat without his thick padded jacket in the freezing cold of the room. His hands were already feeling numb but none of that, not even the panic rushing through him was important. Important was only the man who was leaning over him, putting his hands on Adam’s shoulders all too sudden to not make him flinch.

The man's light blue eyes were drilling into him with madness and his dirty blonde hair was disheveled in a way that promoted Adam to think that he just didn’t care about it. He would have been a good-looking guy would it not be for the wild grin that was spreading across his face. »I'm Lucifer.« He smirked and patted his shoulders before letting go of him. »And no, that is not a joke. That's just my father's disturbed sense of humor I guess. Naming his son after the devil himself … Well, he did know what he was doing, I suppose and at least he didn’t get lazy like your's.«

It was a stupid taunt and still, Adam's heart was racing. »H-Henry.« He suddenly stammered and Lucifer rose his eyebrows in confusion so he was all too quick to continue. »Adam _H-Henry_ Win-Winchester.«

He hadn’t expected the barking laugh that was ripping from the throat of the other man. »Henry? Like the father who abandoned him as a kid? Oh jeez boy, I'm sorry!« He chuckled. »And yes, don’t worry, I know absolutely everything about your family, Adam. Every dirty little secret. I know that your brother Sammy is a junkie, I know that your mother just got promoted for sucking her boss' dick, I know about your big brother Dean and why he is in prison, or the things that happened in prison. I even know whose dick your brother is sucking right now, or who else made him their bitch. In fact, Dean is the reason why you are here now, Honey.«

»What do you want?« Adam tried to keep his voice firm but he couldn’t do anything about the tremble in his voice or the fact that his whole body was shaking uncontrollably while he was sitting here, forced to listen to that lunatic. He had been kidnapped. He had been fucking kidnapped! A million possibilities shot through his mind what might happen to him. What if this guy was some messed up serial killer who liked to torture his victims or cut them into pieces while alive? He was beyond scared at this point. »I don’t … I don’t know anything … I don’t … If you want money … We don’t have much! My mom is just a nurse! Please, just let me go!«

» _Please!_ « Lucifer whined mockingly before another laugh ripped from his throat as he drew a knife from his back where it had probably been looped through his belt. »Don’t worry, I'm not going to ask your family for money, Sweetheart. Besides, who would want to pay ransom for some sick little teenage killer? Oh, don’t look at me like that! Do you really think I wouldn’t know that you killed that girl and that your brother was only covering for you? Please, spare me. That’s what big brothers do. They cover your ass. Not even sixteen at the time and already a cold-blooded killer, my respect. I started a little earlier, but that’s beside the point, I guess. No, you're not here for ransom. You are here because your big bro is talking to the wrong people and that means he probably needs a refresher on who not to fuck with.«

There was a moment when Lucifer dragged the side of the blade over Adam's left cheek to let him feel the blade without actually cutting him, making sure that Adam realized that he was not fucking around anymore before he suddenly shoved the knife back into his belt and grinned down on him. »We are going to have so much fun.«

 

**-End of Chapter 18-**


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sammy is having a hard time

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

As Dean slowly sat down on the uncomfortable chair on his side of the glass wall, he stared in complete and utter confusion at the man who sat on the other side. He had no idea who was paying him a visit and yet he could not fight the feeling of utter uneasiness as he looked at the man with the whiskey-colored eyes. The smile he was wearing was friendly enough, he assumed as he picked up the phone just as the man on the other side of that glass did too.

»Good Morning, Mr. Winchester.« His voice was warm and not at all threatening but still, Dean was careful not to let his guard down. »You sure wonder who I am and why I am here to talk to you.«

»That’s an understatement.« Dean scoffed and he had honestly no interest in being polite in any way. The other man, however, seemed amused more than anything else. Maybe he was one of those journalists Castiel had warned him about who wanted to exploit Dean’s story a little more now that the initial shock of it had worn itself off a little.

»My name is Gabriel.« The other man said and the gaze they exchanged made it pretty clear to Dean that Gabriel already knew that Dean was suddenly on high alert and that there was no need to say more about who he was. He was right with this assumption, of course. Though the name Gabriel might not be rare by any means, Dean, as he felt his heart suddenly pause in his chest, knew that this was not just some coincidence that had lead some guy named Gabriel to him. No, right here in front of him, sat Castiel’s older brother.

»What do you want?« The words came out a lot more defensive and angry as he had initially anticipated they would, but anger was somehow his default mode anyway.

»Nothing, really.« Gabriel smirked on the other side. To him, this must be hilarious. »I just came to talk and to deliver a message. A warning, perhaps, if you'd like to call it that.«

»And why would you warn me? What have I done to deserve a warning?«

»I believe we both know what you did.« Gabriel replied and leaned forward on his desk, his eyes never leaving Dean’s with the same intensity as his little brothers Castiel and Gadreel possessed as well. Must be a Pellegrino thing, Dean mused. »It came to our attention that you are talking to the wrong people, Dean. And word goes around that you dragged my brother into this whole deal as well.«

»I don’t know what you mean.«

»Oh, but I believe you do.« Gabriel sighed and suddenly started rummaging through his pockets before pulling out his phone. A second passed in which Gabriel was searching through his phone. »And I do believe you recognize this little guy too.« He then added before lifting his phone and turning the screen so that Dean was able to see it.

Adam.

It was Adam on the screen, tied to some chair in some dingy dark room with blood on his face, unconscious at best, dead at worst. The surprise and shock that came from seeing his baby brother in that situation froze his body instead of making his blood boil as he would have expected from previous experience in seeing his brothers hurt. Sure, his first instinct was to jump up and beat the shit out of this man but since he couldn’t do that, the only thing he could focus on was the blood loudly rushing through his ears and how fast his heart was beating all of the sudden. His whole body felt clammy and cold and his stomach was rumbling as if he was about to throw up any second now that he knew that his baby brother was in serious danger. This was worse than Eldon being possibly out there roaming through his hometown in search of Sam and Adam. This was a thousand times worse. The Pellegrinos had his brother and they knew that he was talking to the FBI. Nothing could be worse than this. Nothing.

»What did you do to him?« He asked and kept his voice low but the growl that was escaping him could not be controlled so easily. »Let him go, he has nothing to do with all of this. If you want me to stop talking to you know who, I'll stop, but let him go, he is just an innocent child.«

Gabriel clicked his tongue as he turned the phone away from Dean again, his gaze dropping onto the screen for a moment before he put his phone away completely again. »Innocent? I beg to differ.« They knew the truth. Simple as that. Dean could feel it and he didn’t care why they knew. He didn’t care how they knew. He didn’t care that they knew. »Tell you what, Deano.« Gabriel sounded almost a little too cheerful as he was turning his attention back to him. »The walls inside this prison have ears. Nothing you ever going to say in here will stay in here. But you seem like a good guy, really. I mean, letting yourself get locked up for at least fifteen years for a murder you didn’t even commit … Geez, that’s something. And just out of love for your brother. Honestly, I do admire that. It's clearly nothing anyone in my family would ever do. No, we are the type of family who rather tear out each other's throats or fuck each other over. Then again, it seems that this route is much more profitable anyway, judging by where being the good guy landed you. I heard about that thing with Eldon Styne. Such a shame. But, oh well, accidents happen, right?«

»What do you want?« Dean heard himself biting out but his mind was only filled with white noise.

»To teach you a lesson.«

»And what lesson is this?«

»In the words of my brother? Or in my own?«

»I don’t care, just spit it out.«

»We have a job for you to do, Dean.« Gabriel lowered his voice again and narrowed his gaze too, apparently to put a little bit more importance to his next words. »You are going to stop working with certain people and you are going to stop my brother from working with them too.«

»Deal.« As if he would need to think about that even. As long as Adam would get out of this situation unscathed, he didn't really care what he had to do. He would do anything.

»And to show us that you mean it and stick to your end to the deal, you are going to deal with a problem that is causing my brother a lot of stomach aches for at least … let's calculate … thirty-five years.« As Gabriel looked up at him from underneath furrowed brows with his light brown hair hanging loosely in his face, his gaze was a lot harder than before and there was something else visible in his eyes that Dean could not quite name yet.

»Would you stop speaking in riddles and just say what you want? Or is this kind of your thing?« Dean groaned although it was probably not too wise to provoke this man. »Some kind of sick fetish you have there?«

Gabriel actually chuckled at that. »I like you, Dean.« He hummed. »I must say I can see why Cassie likes you so much - despite the pretty face, that is. But back to business. My brother wants me to ask you very kindly to get rid of a certain other younger brother of ours. Don’t worry, not the weird one you like to fuck. No, him we can still make use of.«

»You want me to kill Gadreel?«

»Exactly. Find a way to make it look natural, you know? And if you do that, in addition, to stop working with the feds, we will let your baby brother go and return him to his mother without harm.« Gabriel smirked.  

»You have your goons in here, I suppose. So why don’t you tell any of them?«

»First, have you seen Gadreel?« He laughed. »You don’t honestly think any of our goons would stand a chance against him, do you? Even if they would, we would gain nothing from it. If you would do it, however, well, it would show us that you are very much ready and capable to do as you are told and that you are trustworthy enough to work with without the need to threaten you and your family for the next fifteen years.«

Dean clenched his jaw so hard he was sure that he would never be able to open his mouth again. He had killed Eldon and Tom too, more or less at least. One more murder would not make a difference. And if it would take killing Gadreel, a man who had killed so many other people and was so cold about it too, to free his brother and keep him safe, he had nothing to lose. But could he trust them? »Let's assume I do what you ask me to do … How do I know that you guys stick to your end of the deal as well?«

»Of course, that is a problem. You can't know. But I give you my word, knowing fully well that this is not nearly enough in a situation like this. It has to suffice, though, because if you don’t do it, your brother dies and the next on the list will be the tall fella with the drug problem and the pretty hair. And you better go to work quickly. My brother, Luci, let's say he is not the most patient person in the world and he tends to start slicing people up when he gets bored. We wouldn’t wish to slice up your brother’s pretty face, do we?« He wanted to scream at this man and beat his smug face until it would be unrecognizable. »Do we have a deal?«

Gabriel knew the answer already so what was the point? »Deal.«

»There's one more thing before I leave you to your work, Deano.« Gabriel chirped suddenly. »Another message, so to say. But for Cassie.« Cassie. There was this nickname again that Castiel hated so much and now, hearing it out of the mouth of his older brother, Dean understood why. Growing up with a bunch of guys like Gabriel, had to have been a proper nightmare.

»So who shall he kill?«

Gabriel laughed at this but shook his head. »We both know that Cassie is not a killer – unlike you. No, this message comes from me, personally. Tell my brother that it would be wise for him to stay away from the feds from now on and keep a low profile in here. No more shenanigans with other inmates because I don’t know how much longer I can keep his secret family a secret from the other guys.«

»How do you know about them?«

»The same way I know about everything else in here.« Gabriel shrugged. »I just do. That’s my gift, you know? Knowing things is my job in this family. Well, that and producing porn, I guess.«

»So now you're threatening Castiel's children?«

»I don’t threaten them in any way.« Suddenly Gabriel's face changed ever so slightly but it was not enough to really tell what was going on inside his mind. It was almost impossible to read this man and that frustrated Dean to no end. »Don’t get the wrong idea about me, Dean. I don’t like delivering these messages. I don’t like the thought of losing another little brother. I don’t want Castiel's children or him to get hurt and that’s why I am here to warn him through you. Mike is bound to find out because Raphie starts pushing his nose into other people's business and when he does there will be nothing I would be able to do to prevent a bloodbath again.«

※※※※※※※

**Lawrence, Kansas**

The police was doing everything they could. He knew that. Yet, it was not nearly enough. Day four had arrived just like the days before, without any new information about Adam’s disappearance and the constant nagging feeling that, had the police acted sooner and not insisted on waiting twenty four hours before starting their search of his little brother, Adam might already be back with them. Sam knew that, after forty eight hours of a missing person's case, it was usually considered to be a search for a body. The chances that his little brother was still alive and somewhere out there were slim now after four whole days and the chances that they would find his corpse in the woods or in the snow that was still going strong, grew exponentially with each passing hour.

They, the police, had organized a search party with volunteers and dogs that were skimming the nearby woods, to no avail for now. Of course, Sam was always out there with them, always searching for his little brother, side by side with Bobby or alone. Kate wasn't able to go back to work. She was sitting beside the phone every minute of the day, afraid to even go to the bathroom because she might miss a call from the police or whoever might have Adam. Because that was still a possibility, Sam guessed. Someone could have kidnapped Adam. Someone could have stolen his little brother and maybe that thought was even worse than Adam just having had an accident. He didn't want to think about the possibility that Adam was sitting somewhere in a dark room, alive, but being subjected to unspeakable violence and terror, perhaps. He didn't want to think about that possibility. He wouldn't be able to function if he would.

Someone, mostly Bobby or Karen, would keep Kate company while Sam was out there searching everywhere and hanging missing person posters wherever he was allowed to. Needless to say, he looked like utter horse shit. He hadn't slept in days, he couldn't bother to eat or drink and the demon in the back of his head that liked to tempt Sam so much each day was still eager to remind him on how much easier it would all feel would he just give in already.

Instead, Sam was outside again. The rest of the search party had gone home two hours ago. A storm had brought new snow with it and it was probably very unwise to be out and about during weather like this. Still, how could he stay inside while Adam was still gone? He owed it to Dean to do everything in his power to search for their brother. This was the least he could do, no matter how often Bobby would say to him that he needed rest and sleep.

Maybe this was the worst about this whole situation. He just couldn't stand being told over and over and over again that he needed to rest and think about his own health. He didn't want to think about his own health as he was slowly walking down the street with the missing person posters he still had under his arm. When he was done, everyone in town would know Adam’s stupid face. Oh, how much his baby brother would hate that…

»Sam?« A voice suddenly addressed him and Sam, in genuine surprise, whirled around immediately, facing a person he had not seen in months.

»Brady?« He gasped almost as if his best friend was nothing more than an actual alien the way he was standing right in front of Sam now, covered in a thick winter coat that was undoubtedly hiding a very expensive suit under it. This was Brady, after all. Sam knew Brady ever since high school and he had been the one who had actually introduced him to Jessica back then. Sam and Jess had been inseparable after that fateful night at Brady’s birthday party. He had always been living by the motto of dress to impress, even back in school as everyone had dressed as if they were homeless. Not Brady, however. He had not changed at all in these past few months, then again, that had to have been expected. Why would he have changed just because Sam hadn't been there to witness it?

»Wow!« His best friend - although Sam wasn't quite sure if he could call Brady that at all by this point, after all, his friend had made no effort of getting into contact with him ever since Sam left college to go into rehab - exclaimed and pulled Sam into a hug before he could do anything about that. »Last thing I heard was that you were going to rehab! Jess actually told me about it … She was quite worried.« The last sentence was practically inaudible due to his friend’s sudden flustered mumbling as he suddenly let go of Sam as if he had been burned. »I mean … wow … Sam. How are you?«

Sam just opened his mouth to answer his question, as Brady cut him off right away again. »Shit!« He exclaimed and took a step back as if he had been stung by something. »Of course! Fuck, Sam! I mean … I heard what happened. Everyone knows about it. Man … I’m really sorry for what happened to Adam.« He wanted to give some snarky response, to say that nothing had happened to Adam, but he bit back his comment and instead gave a small nod in response before he could muster up the courage to speak again.

»Thank you.« He muttered slowly and drove one hand over his exhausted face. He was freezing. »It's tough, y’know. Everyone acts as if Adam was dead already.« It was, of course, a small dig at Brady’s previous comment but he doubted his friend actually recognized it as such. »Everyone has already given up. They don't say it, of course, but … I know that they are searching for my brother’s corpse by now. And my stepmom … She has completely lost it.« Why was he even pouring out his heart to Brady now? It wasn't as if his _best friend_ had shown him much concern in the past few months. »Fuck … The worst thing is, they don't want me to tell Dean about it.«

»Dean?« Brady repeated in surprise as if Sam had just declared that he was able to see ghosts and demons. »You … You talk to him?«

»I visited him not long ago.« Sam shrugged his shoulders. »He is still my brother.«

»But he … I mean … He is…«

»A murderer, I know.« Sam sighed. »But what he did, he did for me. He is no cold-blooded killer and he is no monster either. He just lost it back then. It was too much for him, Dad’s death, my overdose, me nearly dying - and in Ruby he saw the root of those tragedies and he lashed out. He is only human, Brady.«

»I mean … I should be lucky you never told him that I actually introduced you to Ruby, huh?« It was a lame excuse of a joke but they both knew that, yes, Brady could deem himself damn lucky that Sam hadn't told Dean who had introduced him to his drug dealer. Dean had never liked Brady anyway. In Dean's eyes, Brady was one sleazy asshat.

»Seems like you have a habit of introducing me to girls that change my life, huh?« He tried a humorless smirk, but it got stuck halfway and Sam was sure he was looking more as if he was having a stroke than trying to grin.

»Apparently so.« Brady huffed and buried his hands in his coat pockets. »I promise, next time, it will be the one you marry. No drama involved. Three time’s the charm, right?«

»I always thought I would marry Jess.« Sam confessed quietly. »How is she by the way?« Had their conversation not been awkward before, now it turned even more uncomfortable as it seemed. He could see how flustered Brady suddenly got and he could already feel a distinct pull on his stomach. »She’ still in college, I assume?«

»Yeah … She's still studying medicine.« Brady mumbled before he took his right hand out of his pocket to drag it over his face. »Look, Sam, there’s no easy way to say this, okay? And as your friend, I don't want to lie to you, especially not now that you are back in town. I mean … heck … you are bound to find out anyway and I don't want you to hear it from anyone else. Jess and I … we are a couple now.«

It was not surprising. Jessica and Brady had been friends even before Jess and Sam had started dating and Brady had helped Jess through a lot after she had discovered that Sam had fucked Ruby behind her back. It had been bound to happen. That didn't mean it hurt any less though. He did his best to keep up a brave front as he nodded in acknowledgement of these news. »Oh« He made and quickly cleared his throat. »Yeah … It's okay, I guess. Congratulations, I mean. She’s an awesome girl. I was an idiot for ever cheating on her with someone like Ruby.«

»You're not angry?«

»After everything I went through that last year?« Sam huffed. »No. Really, Brady. I had my chance and I squandered it. Jess deserves someone better than me and if that someone is my best friend, then I am happy for you guys.« It was all a blatant lie but it was what people expected to hear from the ever nice and kind Sam Winchester. He had more important things to worry about anyway. That was, at least, what he told himself now. But the truth still was that he was hurting now even more than before. He had always known the day would come that Jess would find a new guy but … Brady?

»Well, I’m glad to hear that.« Brady smiled and patted his shoulder before his eyes fell upon the posters in Sam's hand. He gestured at them and Sam gave him a couple. »I make sure that they hang everywhere on campus until everyone gets sick of seeing your brother’s face. Heck, he is going to be a legend when he's starting college in a few years. Everyone in school will know him as that kid whose face hung all over the place.«

Sam actually managed a smile at that. »He's going to go to Kansas Law Enforcement Training Center.« He was quick to reply. »But I bet he will be a legend there too.«

»Another cop in your family?« Brady laughed.

»Yeah, I guess we have a thing for law, huh?« He trailed off at this. Maybe Adam would actually be the one Winchester brother who did all the right things and not get on the wrong side of the law. They all tried to be the good guys, yet Dean and he had already lost all credibility in this regard. Adam wouldn't have it easy.

»Hey, Sam, look.« Brady again caught his attention as he was searching his pockets and quickly fumbled out a business card. »I know things are tough right now for you and I can imagine that you could need something to take the edge off. Let's be honest, we both know you look like utter dog shit. It's clear that you are suffering. So … if you need _something_ , here’s the card of an acquaintance of mine, alright?«

»Thanks but-« Brady pressed the card into Sam’s free hand without accepting no for an answer.

»Just take it. Listen, I don't want you to do anything you later regret, but you got clean once and you can do it again. I just can't stand seeing you suffer like this, alright? I better get going now, Jess is waiting for me, actually. You know how she is, wants to celebrate that we are four months together and stuff.« He couldn't even say something, so he just nodded and watched how Brady hurried past him until he vanished behind the next corner. For a long moment, Sam just stared at the business card of a guy named Azazel before he crunched it up in his hand and walked over to a bin to toss it away. Just as he was about to do so, however, he pulled his hand back, straightened out the card and stored it into the inside pocket of his jacket before he marched on.

As night fell, the snow had gotten so bad that even Sam could not convince himself to still go out and search for his brother in the darkness. Chances were better that he would get himself killed than actually finding Adam and he was smart enough to know that. Yet, he was unable to rest as he found himself staring at the business card that Brady had given him. He didn't know why he hadn't thrown it away but decided to keep it.

There was just a name, Azazel, and a phone number written onto the card and, hell, Sam couldn't deny the temptation he was feeling just while staring at the card in his fingers. Learning about Brady and Jessica … it had been just another blow. As if it hadn't been enough already; his father’s death, Ruby’s death, Dean going to jail, his relapse, Adam’s disappearance … and now that. Maybe he was weak, yes, but it was all too much for him. He wasn't able to sleep, he wasn't able to eat but he knew that he needed to. He knew that he needed to catch a break otherwise he would never be able to withstand all of this drama any longer.

The decision of calling Azazel was made entirely unconsciously but Sam did not exactly fight it either. For once, he just didn't want to feel a damn thing. He knew that this was exactly the kind of thinking that got him and his family into trouble originally - but how was he supposed to fight it? He couldn't stand thinking about it all. He couldn't stand thinking about his father’s death or the photo of Ruby’s corpse or about how Dean had looked last time he had seen him. His brother had a smart mouth but he couldn't fool him. He could tell that it was hell in there for Dean and that he only tried to play it down. The worst of it all was that it was all Sam’s fault.

He didn't know if it was the exhaustion of the last days catching up to him or the depression he had sunken in, ever since all of this whole dilemma had started. Whatever it may be, as the snow first started to calm down a little and the house had gone silent at last, Sam was sneaking out of the Milligan's residence already.

Azazel had been quite clear on the phone of what he was expecting from Sam for the things he had to offer. No funny business with that guy, that was certain. He felt like crap as he was walking through the snow, only with just enough money in his pockets to get what he needed from Azazel so that he could continue his search for his baby brother tomorrow and maybe even catch a bit of sleep when he would get back to Kate’s house. It didn't make things easier that they were all staying at her house and Sam had already wondered if he shouldn't rather stay at the house he had grown up in. Surely, Kate couldn't quite stand him being around all the time and if she would ask him to go and sleep in Adam’s bed one more time, he might lose his shit anyway.

Azazel was a careful man and not at all for getting involved with his customers. Instead of the man himself, Sam met with one of his lackeys, some random guy in a baseball hat and ugly sneakers despite the temperatures and the blizzard that was still threatening to consume Kansas. The exchange was quick. Sam handed over the money and was handed a small plastic bag with two tiny pills in return. He didn't need more than this, he told himself, as he finally turned away from the man to leave that alleyway behind a local supermarket. He felt like a thug, like the scum of the earth, so to say, as he slowly made his way back. Only as he reached Kate’s house and saw that there was already light inside the kitchen again, did Sam turn away once more.

He couldn't stand it. He needed to be alone. It wasn't just because of what he was about to do, it was … everything. The looks of worry he was shot by Kate and Bobby and even Karen. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand the questions, the glances they shot him that told him exactly how they were all thinking that Sam was going to break again. Well … They were right, weren't they? He was breaking down again. He was weak again. But at least he wanted privacy for that. He needed this moment of weakness so that tomorrow he could be strong again.

As he turned away from the Milligan house, he knew where he was headed and he didn't need to look up once as he made his way home. His feet knew exactly where to carry him and Sam followed them without thinking twice about it. It was almost comical to him - all of it. After his relapse, he had sworn to never even think about taking drugs again. He had been so proud of himself after his day with Adam a little while ago and now he was here again, back at square one because he couldn't stand the stress of this situation. He was itching for the drug, he was hurting for it, longing for it. He needed it. That was it. He _needed_ it and there was nothing he could do about it. In the end, he would forever be a junkie, no matter how long he would manage to stay away from it. He was never going to get his life back. He had sold it to Ruby for the high that she promised him and she had delivered and ever since that day, this rush of excitement and total relaxation of his body was all he could think about. It was always in the back of his mind. Everything he was doing and feeling, the worry for Adam, the fear of his brother being dead, Dean’s fate in prison, his own uncertain future, all of this only was at the forefront of his mind to dull what he was really thinking about 24/7.

He didn't want to be that person but as he arrived home, he knew that there was no way of escaping it and he told himself that it was just this one time, that it was just because he needed to sleep and be able to go search for Adam again tomorrow despite the fact that he knew that his brother was probably already dead. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see it play out right in front of him as if he was there. He saw Adam’s mutilated body lying somewhere in a ditch, covered by snow, his grey-blue eyes staring blankly and lifelessly into a clear sky as if he was just watching the stars. He had to do something about these thoughts.

The house felt different than he remembered it as he walked in through the front door. He still had the house key on his keychain, of course. Walking into the house like that felt almost too much as if he was just coming home from a stressful day in school to be greeted by his family and the smell of dinner cooking on the stove. He was almost tempted to shout something like ‘I'm home!’ for a split second, but caught himself before doing so. He didn't even switch on the light, as he walked slowly down the narrow corridor and turned right to enter the living room. The furniture and everything they owned was still there as if they all had just left for a few days, as if his father would walk in through that door Sam had come in through any second now, complaining about the weather outside.

He wasn't, though.

His father would never walk through that door ever again.

Sam was quiet as he walked over to the couch, as if he was trying not to disturb anyone. This house had actually been the first location the police had visited in their search for Adam, thinking that the boy might have just gone home and not told anyone because he was a moody angsty teenager who wanted to be alone. Of course, he hadn't been here. They had searched every inch of the house. No sign of Adam. Yet this place seemed to be undisturbed despite the fact that there had been around ten people scouring the house for information these past couple of days.

It felt odd, knowing that all these strangers had walked all over the place, invading their privacy like this. It was almost as if they had walked in on them naked in the shower or as if they had been desecrating everything Sam held dear.

Shaking off these thoughts, he pulled out the small plastic bag with the two pills and quickly crunched them up inside the bag on the coffee table until they were nothing but a fine white powder. He had watched Meg do it and he knew enough now not to do anything seriously dangerous. That was at least what he was telling himself and the more reasonable part of his brain knew just how insane this line of thinking was. Sadly, he wasn't very reasonable right now. He was driven by his emotions and by the level of exhaustion he had reached at this point.

Instinctively, he reached for the first thing he saw to prepare the lines on without even looking at what he was grabbing in lack of a mirror or a small tray like Meg had used. It was some photograph that someone had set up on the coffee table but Sam didn't waste a glance at the picture as he opened the bag with the now squashed pills to slowly pour the powder onto the glass of the photo before he was pulling out his wallet in search for his credit card to make the lines on the glass.

He was doing it just like Meg had shown him. The ministrations were routine as if he was doing this every day despite the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him that what he was doing was inherently wrong and awful. He still did it. He still made the lines, he still rolled up a ten dollar bill into a thin straw to snort the powder through and he still leaned down closer to the photo with the self-made straw ready for use.

It was only then, that his face was inches away from the glass, that he realized that he was staring directly into the eyes of his father. It was this realization that made him almost drop the photo and as he let out a startled breath the powder right in front of his face got blown away quite a bit. Cursing, he tried to reassemble the lines he made, but the spell was already broken and he couldn't pry his eyes away from his father's laughing face.

For the longest moment, Sam could only stare down at the picture in his hands that he had so shamelessly desecrated just now. The picture showed his father, standing right in the middle of the frame, both arms wrapped tightly around the shoulders of his two older sons with a huge grin plastered on his face as he stared proudly at the camera through his dark-rimmed glasses. The black shirt he was wearing just screamed "USA" at everyone who might be interested in it and the black baseball hat he was wearing was just a hint of where this photo had been taken. Sam recognized the picture from one of the last outings to a local baseball game they had had as a family. He stood at his father’s left-hand side, their temples touching as he had been leaning down and onto him quite a bit for them to all be in frame and Dean stood on his father’s other side giving a thumbs up at Adam who had taken the photo, snickering like an idiot because of the face Dean had been making the whole time.

When the photo had been taken, their father hadn't known yet that he was pulling a junkie and the future reason for his untimely death so close to him. He had still been filled with endless pride for his three sons and their achievement and he remembered him rambling on about his sons to their neighbors whenever they met them on the street. His dad couldn't have been prouder even if one of them had become president and Sam had never quite understood how he was so proud of them. Then again, everything could have turned out differently. They could have been taken away from him, raised in the system by abusive foster families. Instead, his father, on this picture, was hugging a future lawyer and a police officer close to him, filled to the brim with pride of how good his sons had turned out despite all the hardships, proud of them as a family and how they had pulled through it all together as a team.

He noticed the tears too late and as the first one fell onto the glass and mingled with the powder, he cursed under his breath. His first instinct was to save his precious drug and only then did he realize what he was doing. That was when the dam broke. That was when he nearly threw the picture at the wall to shatter it. That was when he violently shook off the powder from the glass and wiped it clean with the sleeve of his flannel shirt.

He couldn't stop the sobs that were ripping from his throat now. He couldn't stop the tears and he didn't even try anymore. He was crying for how low he had fallen. He was crying over the fact that he had prepared his drug on a family photo, on the _last_ family photo they had ever taken with their father still alive and so very proud of his sons and what a great team they all were. It was as if he had dug open his grave and opened his casket to spit on him. That was exactly how Sam felt and he was disgusted by himself as he gripped so tightly onto the picture frame that his knuckles turned white.

»I'm sorry, Dad.« He found himself sobbing barely able to recognize his voice. His father had given the world to his kids and that was how he was thanking him; trying so snort heroin from his face, being weak, destroying every bit of progress he had made in these past months. And he thought about Dean and how they had talked in jail, how his brother had given him the permission to move back into this house, to live with their brother, to be a decent role model for Adam, to be the person their little brother needed to guide him through life because Dean couldn't. And now he was here, back at square one and he had nearly thrown it all away. Not just his progress, not just his betterment, not just his future or his career. He had nearly thrown away Adam. He had nearly thrown away their second chance as a family. He had nearly thrown away the last good memory he had of his father. He had almost thrown away every good thing he had had and could have again. He had desecrated his father's memory in pouring heroin on him. He had desecrated their family, their life, their team and everything they stood for, everything they had achieved.

There had been so many people in the past, telling his father to give up and go the easier way, find a nice foster family until he would have been back on his feet and able to give those boys every luxury other parents would be able to give them. But he hadn't. He had done everything in his power to keep them, to raise them right, never raised the hand against them, never mistreated them and he had soon realized that his boys didn't need and didn't want fancy shoes or the newest toys, that they didn't want or need the luxury other parents would have been able to give them. They had only wanted their father, their family. He - they - had shown everyone that they were able to do it without help from the state or anyone who thought could do a better job. And Sam had almost destroyed it all again and proved them right just now.

As he rubbed away the tears from his face minutes later, he slowly laid down on the sofa, pressing the photography tightly to his chest as he closed his eyes against the darkness. It was this moment that he promised himself to earn back his father’s pride. And he remembered him saying something he had almost forgotten in all these awful months that lay behind him. » _You can stumble and fall, Son. There is nothing wrong with failing, nothing wrong with making mistakes - even huge one. That's the only way to learn. You can stumble and you can fall. You can make mistakes and fail everything you want to achieve and you can even disappoint the people around you and yourself. But, Midget, the most important thing when you do all of that is, that you work hard and even harder to get back on your feet, to gain back other people's trust. And trust me, you could never do anything so horrible that I would not find it in me to forgive you because everyone deserves a second chance as long as they are willing to earn it._ «

And, fuck, he was willing to earn it. Had there ever been a moment where Sam Winchester had thought to have the worst behind him, that he was finally out of the woods, it would all have been lies that he had told himself to make himself feel better. This, right here, _this_ was the moment. He was out of the woods but he knew now that his fight would never be truly over. However, now he could choose his battlefields himself and his next war was to find his baby brother, to get him back, to regain control over his life and to help the people around him.

 

**-End of Chapter 19-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thats the Picture that inpsired the photo at the end  
> https://www.pinterest.de/pin/497999671290754407/


	20. Chapter 20

**Hell**

The room was pitch black and he preferred it this way. The absence of light meant the absence of Lucifer. The darkness was comforting to Adam as he sat huddled in the corner of the dingy room. As long as it was dark, he need not fear what Lucifer had to offer him.

The devil was a skilled torturer. He was careful not to injure him too much, but to administer just enough pain to enjoy Adam’s screams and to find pleasure in it. That was, at least, what Adam assumed. He didn't know how long he was in this room already. There was no indication of the passing of day or night, just Lucifer who came and went every now and again with few hours in between his visits, as Adam suspected.

Sometimes he was bringing him a glass of water, but never anything to eat and even the water wasn't nearly enough to satisfy his thirst. That was probably the point. It was enough to keep him alive and make him feel the pain of dehydration. His fingers were burning painfully after Lucifer had enjoyed ripping out two of his nails but at least that was the worst it had gotten for now. He had been beaten and kicked, but nothing worse than that, though he was aware that Lucifer was just dragging out his torture to his own amusement.

As he was floating in the darkness now, feeling feverish and sick, he wondered if he was going to die in this room or if he was going to be set free. He didn't think that this was very probable. No. There was no way Lucifer would let him go alive. No way. And maybe he deserved exactly that too. Maybe he deserved dying in this room after what he had done. He was a killer and Lucifer knew this. He didn't even care why or how he knew. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that he knew and that he was punishing him for it. A part of him was even relieved that he did. Being punished for what he had done felt good. It allowed him to let go of the ballast he was carrying around with him even.

He thought about Dean and how he was probably suffering behind bars for a crime he never committed in the first place, but something his little brother had done wrong. He could only hope that he would be able to see his brothers again. However, as he heard how the heavy metal door was opened with a loud squeak, this hope slowly died off.

»Adaaaaam« Lucifer’s sung and the sound shook him to the core and for once, Adam could only hope that it would be over soon. Death seemed a relief, really, and yet he was aware that he hadn't even experienced half of what Lucifer Pellegrino was capable of doing. The lights were turned on at once in a flash of blinding white light that burned Adam’s eyes out of his skull - or at least it felt like this as his head was screaming in pure and utter agony. »Oh, Adam!« Again with the singing. »Did you miss me already? Don't worry, today I made sure that we get plenty of time to play together, friend.«

※※※※※※※

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

As Dean was walking through the endless labyrinth that was the prison, his vision had become narrowed down as if he was walking through a dark tunnel, following only a sliver of white light leading him through this endless system of corridors and hallways. He felt the reassuring press of the shiv he had made earlier out of his toothbrush press again the flesh of his left wrist with every step, the crude weapon digging into his skin and leaving a mark undoubtedly.

His thoughts were focused only on his mission, only on what he was out to achieve today whether he really wanted it or not didn't matter. This was not about what he wanted to do. This was about what he had to do in order to save his little brother. And yes, of course, he knew that he couldn't trust these people, that he couldn't trust Gabriel's promise of releasing Adam safely after he did what he was ordered to do.

It was desperation leading him through the prison. Pure and utter desperation. He held no ill will against Gadreel, but that was beside the point. It wasn’t about what he wanted to do, it was about what he ought to do in order to protect his little brother, knowing that he had done already enough to protect him as he had gone to jail in his stead. Still … would it ever be enough? How far was too far when it came to protecting his family? How much was too much? Would there ever be a _too_ much or a _too_ far? Heck, as if he wouldn’t already know the answer to that question. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for his brothers. Nothing at all. And now, while he was walking through the prison, the only thing he could think about was Adam's bloody face and his thin body tied to that chair.

If there was anything he could do to prevent further harm to Adam or Sammy or anyone else in his family, he would do it no matter what.

He found Gadreel where he was mostly to be found during rec time, outside on the basketball field dribbling away the day as if he wasn’t bothered at all by the cold that was cutting straight through their jumpsuits while there was no one else around in the yard. It had been snowing on and off during the past days and there was still a thick layer of the white mass covering the ground outside. If Gadreel had he noticed Dean's arrival already, he didn’t show it and just kept dribbling with his ball or trying out new dunks.

Only as Dean was just a few feet away, Gadreel broke the solitude of the yard. »So I take it today is the day I'm going to bite the dust, huh?«

Dean wasn’t even startled or surprised as Gadreel turned to face him in his usual and already oh so familiar calm attitude as if he was always in control of any given situation. Probably because he was. Even now he was in control and there was no question about that either. Gadreel knew why Dean came out of the building, Gadreel knew what Dean was hiding in his sleeve and yet he seemed calm and truly unfazed. There was no surprise in the fact that Gadreel did not seem frightened or anxious at all. Dean didn’t know if Gadreel would fight back or if he was even willing to embrace death. Two days long Dean had weighed the thought of killing Gadreel in his head. Two days. Two days that might have brought Adam closer to his demise. He hadn't talked to Castiel, of course. How could he? He couldn't walk up to him and tell him that his brothers were holding Adam hostage unless he would kill Gadreel. There was no way he would tell him.

»I wouldn’t do it if I wouldn’t have to.« Dean breathed as he stepped closer and let the shiv slide into the palm of his hand.

»The thing is, you don’t have to do that.« Gadreel replied quietly. »Nobody is forcing your hand.«

»They have my little brother.« He managed to grind out through his teeth. »Your family, they have my brother.« He was freezing out here and yet the cold couldn't even quite reach him. He was unwilling to feel the cold seeping through his jumpsuit and his skin going straight into his bones.

»And so they want me dead in exchange for your brother, I suppose.« Gadreel was too calm and that only infuriated Dean more than it already had. »I can't say that I blame you for wanting to kill me then. It's like you said at the hospital, I would do everything for my little brother too, even kill - in fact, I did kill for him, as you know. But I would advise you not to follow my example because all this path holds for you is misery, in the end. You don't want that. Plus, killing me out here with this … toothbrush would do you more harm than good. We are being watched after all.«

»I don't care.« Dean breathed, ignoring the little white cloud forming as a result. »I don't care if I stay in here for the rest of my life if Adam is safe.«

»But he won't be safe.« Gadreel shrugged and leisurely pinned the basketball between his body and his arm. »Your family will never be safe now that my family knows that they will have leverage on you in using them. The next person you are going to kill after me, is Castiel. You are aware of that, right?«

»What do you mean?«

»When I’m dead, Gabriel will come back again. He will tell you that they can't let Adam go just now - not before you killed Castiel too. And after that … Well … There are too many Pellegrinos in this prison for you to get out alive.« The realization that Gadreel was right struck him all too sudden like a blow to the stomach. Of course, he was right but only now Dean had the moment of clarity needed to grasp it fully. Until now his head had been clouded by thoughts of bitter revenge on this family. They would keep on using him for their gain and then they would kill him. And then what? Who would keep his family safe when he wouldn't be there anymore?

»What am I supposed to do?« The question came out breathlessly and much more helpless than Dean was willing to admit. He almost expected Gadreel to turn on him, almost expected him to wrangle the shiv from him to kill Dean in his stead. His brother would be free, would he die, right? Or would Lucifer kill him just for shits and giggles?

As if Gadreel could read his mind, he spoke up with a sigh. »Your brother won't get out alive, Dean. Not if you kill me, at least.«

»What do you mean?«

»Lucifer is a man without morals. He always was. He is so sociopath - and that is not me throwing around some fancy word I read in a dictionary once like it's customary these days. He truly is a monster and Michael is even worse than him. The only halfway decent person in this family is Gabriel. He does his best. All he wants is to have fun, so forgive him when he appears like an asshole. Lucifer, however, will kill your brother on a whim and it won't be painless. He usually takes his time.«

»Big words calling your brother a monster when you were no better than him.«

»I never tortured, Dean. That's a difference. I did what I had to do. I'm no innocent man and I never acted as if I were. But the people I killed, I killed cleanly and quickly without unnecessary suffering. Lucifer finds joy in administering pain. He finds pleasure in torturing others and your brother won't be an exception. Lucifer doesn't care if he is a child either.« Gadreel drove a hand through his hair before he pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. »Look … he is no one you want to fuck with. He once ripped apart a man who got his hands on Castiel, and by ripped apart I mean it exactly like that. And Castiel he doesn't even like! Lucifer couldn't have been happier would Castiel have died at the hands of that man back then, yet he ripped him apart anyway.«

»So what's your deal? Do you want to make it worse for me? Do you want to make this nightmare even more hellish or why are you telling me this?« Gadreel’s unspoken threats burned in his ears and made him truly unable to focus on anything else while his mind kept wandering, imagining how Adam might look like and if he was still alive.

»I tell you this because I can help you, Dean.« For a second, he dropped his gaze only to meet Dean's eyes again. Gadreel’s eyes, unlike Castiel's, were made of steel where Castiel’s were as deep as the ocean. »If you get your FBI contact to meet you … I can help you. I know where Luci keeps Adam, I know how he operates and I can give you the evidence needed for putting Mike, Raphael, Gabriel, and Lucifer behind bars and end this. All of this.« It sounded too good to be true and Dean was certain that there was a catch.

»Why do you care?«

»Because I know how you feel.« He sighed. »I know how it is to be worried sick for a brother.« For a moment, there was silence and as Gadreel seemed to understand that Dean wouldn't just drop the topic, he continued with hesitation clearly written all over his face as he released a shuddering breath as if he was suddenly feeling the cold around them, making him oddly human. »Castiel was kidnapped when he was nine - on my watch. I was supposed to pick him up from school like I did every day. I was in charge of the fledglings, as we called Balthazar and Castiel. I was the one protecting them, especially Castiel. I came too late, he was already gone. Someone had snatched him away from the school. The days, in which we didn't know if he was still alive, the days in which we waited for a ransom letter were the worst of my life. And when we finally found him after two weeks, I knew that I could never repay him for my failure as a brother. Cas almost died at the hands of this monster, Dean, and I could do nothing to protect him from it. As Lucifer killed the guy it was more about revenge for daring to lay a hand on one of our blood and not at all about Castiel’s pain and trauma. They just made him watch how Lucifer killed his tormentor to make him realize the severity of the situation. Castiel was terrified of Lucifer and Mike from then on. Gabe was the only one trying to protect him from that gruesome scene. Ever since that day, I did everything in my power to make it up to him. I owe him - with my life if nothing else.«

That, at least, explained why Gadreel cleaned up behind Dean so willingly and without batting a lash after Cas had asked him to. Everything he did, the cleanups, the murders of Castiel’s former cellmates, it was all to achieve forgiveness. A part of Dean believed that Castiel had probably forgiven his brother a long time ago, but he could understand Gadreel and, yes, he even felt sympathy for him. He would do the same things as he, where their positions swapped and the forgiveness Gadreel was seeking, he would never gain because he would never forgive himself just as much as Dean would never forgive himself for letting Sam ruin his life with drugs and not seeing it sooner.

»Maybe you aren't such a bastard after all.«

※※※※※※※

**Lawrence, Kansas**

Cooking liters and liters of coffee really wasn't what Sam had expected to do these days, but it was exactly what he was doing. He was handing out cups of coffee to everyone who came to help them. Kate had needed to go back to work whether she liked it or not. She was needed at the hospital and she had only left Sam in charge after the younger Winchester had promised her that he would do everything to keep the search party going and satisfied. So cooking coffee and making sandwiches in Kate’s kitchen it was and he didn't care one bit that he felt like a middle-aged housewife doing so.

»You’re doing good, Chipmunk.« Bobby smiled at him as he helped Sam pouring more coffee as more volunteers came by.

»It's not much. Just coffee.« Sam shrugged his shoulders.

»It's enough, Sam.« Bobby gently offered as he patted his shoulder. »We can't do much more than this, Sam. You already scoured these woods and left no stone unturned. Cooking coffee for the volunteers is enough.«

»Still, I wished I could be out there with them again. Instead of staying back and guarding the phone.«

»It ain't doing your brother anything good if you get sick out there because you don't take care of yourself.« Bobby said in the same gruff tone Sam came to love throughout the years. »Just imagine Adam coming back and seeing you all weak and withered away out of worry. No, surely he wouldn't want that and Dean neither. What you are doing here right now is good and important too. You keep them volunteers going so that they can continue the search for Adam out there. That's just as important as being out there yourself and I am glad to see that you came around again.«

»What do you mean?« Sam asked as he finished another sandwich and offering it to one of the volunteers. There were people from Adam’s school, surely out of guilt for the way they treated Adam these past months, people from the neighborhood they had grown up in, even people from Sam’s college.

»Sam … please, don't think I wouldn't have seen that you struggled those past days. I was afraid you would relapse again.« Bobby had never been one to sugarcoat anything he wanted to say. Now, however, Sam felt caught by him.

»Why didn't you say anything?«

»Well, I didn't want to diminish your progress or say something that might hurt you. I didn't want you to think that we were all just waiting for you to fall back into the addiction.«

Sam swallowed hard as he thought back on the last night as he had stumbled into his old home with two pills buried in his pocket, dead set on getting high. »What if I had? Shouldn't you have kept a closer eye on me?«

»Sam, listen, Son.« Bobby sighed and turned Sam around gently so that they were facing each other fully now. »If there is one thing I’ve learned from dealing with your good old dad, it is that you cannot force someone with an addiction to get better and stay away from their drug of choice. You can only be patient and let them make their own decisions, no matter how much it pains you. Sure, I would have kicked your ass had you relapsed again, but in the end, if you truly would have wanted the drug more than staying clean, there would have been nothing I could have done to prevent you from going after it. I could have locked you up, but what good would this do anyway? Sooner or later I would have needed to release you and then you would have gone after the drug anyway. It's like Sonny said, Sam, you have to find the strength to withstand in yourself and I am positive that you finally did find it. You seem much more confident than you did in these past days, Sam and I am proud to see that progress you made.« He couldn't shake off the feeling that Bobby knew what he had almost done, he couldn't shake off the feeling that Bobby might have followed him out of the house even. It was a stupid thought and yet, it almost felt as if he had had a guardian angel last night.

»I almost did it, Bobby.« Sam confessed quietly and pinched the bridge of his nose slightly. »I almost … I already had everything prepared … but I didn't. I couldn't.« He wouldn't say that he almost snorted heroin from a family photo in his old home. He wouldn't state how he had desecrated this memory of his father and how he had only stopped because he had been looking straight at his father while getting ready to snort the drug. He just couldn't bring himself to recount this lowest point of his life. It was enough that he would always remember this for the rest of his life and to live with the shame of it all. »I went home, last night. I just … I needed to go home, you know?«

Before he could say anything else, Bobby had already gently pulled him into a hug and patted his head slightly as if Sam was still just a little boy who fell with his bike and scraped open his knees. »It's okay, Sam.« He murmured into his ear and Sam found himself holding onto the old mechanic as if for dear life, before Bobby let go of him again. »Sam, listen.« He then breathed. »You are a good kid.« Sam snorted, but Bobby cut him off. »You struggled, that's all. You are allowed to struggle. That's only human, my boy. Your father struggled too, after your mom’s death. He didn't know what to do and where to turn to. He was completely lost and the alcohol … Well, it certainly made it all easier to cope with for the moment. Your father wasn't without flaw, Sam, you were just too young to remember. Ask your brother, though. Dean actually knew your father as a drunken son of a bitch, he knew your dad’s bad side. So, I think, when Dean found out about your addiction back then … He thought that you were repeating your dad’s mistakes, only with a different drug and he was afraid to go through it all again with his brother now. And your dad … Well, you are much like him, Sam. You have a lot in common with your old man but he beat his addiction and you can do as well. You already did and I am most certain that you keep kicking it in the ass.«

»But what if I don't?«

»Then just know that, if you struggle, you always have someone to talk to. You are allowed to struggle, Sam. You are only human and no one is perfect. Not your father, not Dean and especially not me.« It sounded all so easy but Sam wasn't sure if Bobby could understand how heavy all of this truly weighed on his shoulders. Still, last night he had made a decision and Sam would stick to it.

»When Adam comes back« he began quietly. »I want to move back into our home with him. And I want to go back to college.« He would get his life back in order, that much he owed his father and his brothers.

※※※※※※※

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

Dean couldn't be calmed. Not with sex, not with blowjobs, not with anything at all that Castiel would be able to supply to him. As Castiel lay in Dean’s way too narrow bed on his stomach, he found Dean resting next to him on his side, propped up only on his right forearm. Their conversation from a few days ago still lingered heavily on Castiel's mind after Dean had rushed inside their cell one day, throwing a self made shiv straight into the toilet with a face as if he had been haunted by a ghost. The first words that Dean had been able to say were that he had almost killed Gadreel after he had had a visit from Gabriel telling him to do it and as Castiel had enquired further with anger burning in his throat and a new found worry not only for his brother but the man he came to feel so deeply for, Dean had finally told him everything that he had carried around for two days prior to this conversation. He had noticed how odd he had been behaving during those days, but not thought too much of it. Oh, what a mistake that had been! And yet, Gadreel was not dead. Dean had not killed his brother, instead he had introduced Gadreel to Agent Mills. What an odd thing for his brother to do, to help a stranger like Dean in this dire situation. Then again, was it really that odd?

Dean was allowed to move his left arm and hand again since earlier this week and he had made good use of that. Now, however, he was using the tips of his fingers to trace the feathers on Castiel’s back slowly and in a way that almost prompted Castiel to fall asleep immediately. It was such a nice relaxing feeling and so very calming how Dean’s fingertips were gently moving across his back, marveling at every single feather that had been etched into his skin in an endless hour long process of pain. He seemed fascinated with the wings on his back and arms since day one and that really was the only reason why Castiel allowed him touching him like this at all. He hated it when people touched his back - usually.

However, the thing was, that Dean was not a random person. They hadn't talked about their feelings for one another again, not after Dean had almost forced a confession out of him without actually doing it. However, Castiel didn't feel as if there were many words needed anyway. He thought that Dean understood and he felt that he understood Dean too. They were too close to justify it with just being fuckbuddies in prison, too close to even justify it with just friendship. They had been drawn to each other from the first moment their eyes had met onwards and that was impossible to deny for them both. Yet, neither of them would say the words. It was almost as if both of them feared it would be like a spell that was broken if they would say it, or as if they would invite something bad to happen when they would say it out loud.

»Why did you get them?« Dean hummed quietly but his eyes were glued to Castiel’s back as he noticed when he was glancing over his shoulder to Dean. He seemed oddly focused and that really was no surprise. Castiel knew of his situation, of course. He knew that Dean was on edge. He hadn't slept in days. He hadn't slept ever since Gabriel had walked into this prison to tell Dean about his baby brother’s grim fate. Of course, Adam wouldn't get out alive and Castiel knew that. Even Dean seemed to understand that - but he would never say it. As long as there would be a single thread of hope left for Dean that his little brother would get out alive, he would hold onto it, unwilling to ever let go despite what everyone told him.

»To cover up some scars.« Castiel gently shrugged.

»From your brothers?« Dean’s voice was nothing but a low hum.

»Yeah« He breathed quietly as Dean found the scars hidden underneath the ink and gently directed his fingertips across them, sending shivers down his spine right away. It felt actually quite nice to just lay here, naked, spend and tired with Dean as if they were not in a freezing cold prison cell, as if they were not behind bars, as if they were a real couple out in the real world.

»Who did it?« Dean dug further as his fingers traced a particularly long scar running across the right side of his back. For a moment he wasn't sure if he should answer him because his answer would destroy the serenity of this moment for certain and remind Dean of the fact that he was actually panicking.

»Lucifer.« Castiel then sighed and heard how Dean’s breath hitched ever so slightly. He couldn't hold it against him and he knew what was going through his mind: If Lucifer did something like this to his own brother, what would he do to a stranger like Adam? »Mostly because Michael told him to.« There was a moment of pause there as he realized that he never used any shortened versions of his brothers’ names, unlike Gadreel and Balthazar always did. It was an odd thing to think about all of the sudden. Then again, he knew why that was. He knew that he had always been just too afraid of them to do something like this and call them anything but their real names. »He would hit me with his belt if I did anything Mi-« He stopped himself quickly. If he really wanted to go through with their plan, he had to drop his fear, he assumed. It was almost like saying Voldemort. » _Mike_ disapproved of. And Mike … He disapproved of almost everything I did, including breathing the wrong way - or breathing at all.« There was a small snicker leaving his mouth at this.

»What about your parents? Your father, I mean.«

»Oh … He was hardly there to notice what was going on and my stepmother didn't care. If anything, she would have found joy in seeing the way Lucifer would punish me and would have probably encouraged him to hit harder.« He shrugged again just slightly. »I survived.« He then stated quietly. »It was Gadreel who first introduced me to the idea of covering up my scars, actually. He did the same thing.«

»He was beaten too?« He sounded surprised as if he would have never imagined a man like Gadreel to be at the receiving end of punishment like this, forgetting the fact that Gadreel had once been a child too.

»We were all beaten.« Castiel murmured. »Gadreel, Balthazar and I, that is. I think Gabriel probably too, but not in the same way as we were. Gabriel always knew how to play the part that was bestowed upon him, he always managed to fit right in, but he hated it. He still hates it.«

»He didn't seem to hate it when he showed me the picture of Adam.«

»The walls in here have eyes and ears all over, Dean.« Castiel gently reminded him. »He would never be dumb enough to go against anything Mike told him to do. But believe me when I say, he does feel for you and your situation. He … Gabriel always protected me, as much as he could, anyway … In his own way.«

»Gadreel said you were kidnapped.«

»I was.« It was not a nice memory and Castiel rather not revisited it, but he would, for Dean if that helped him. »I was nine. Gadreel was running late in picking me up. I was alone at the side of the street waiting for him and then it just happened. I can’t remember much of it. He drugged me, I would assume.«  

»What happened then? Did the guy want ransom money?«

»Well« Castiel replied in a huff of breath. »I was beaten, I was raped, I was threatened. He kept me for two weeks until my brothers found me. And yes, of course he wanted money, but he would have killed me that day, would my brothers not have followed him from the spot where he picked up the ransom money. He didn’t even care about the money that much. Apparently, he had me in his sights for a while. He wanted revenge for something my father did to him and I was the easiest target because I was the youngest and smallest who was often forgotten by his older brothers. I never knew what it was, and I never cared to know.«

»How did you deal with this?«

»I didn’t.« Castiel shrugged and knew that it wasn't of much help for Dean and his current situation. »I didn’t speak for almost a year, I didn’t eat right, I hardly slept whenever Gadreel or Balthazar weren't around. I didn’t leave the house, I didn’t go to school. My father just got me a tutor and started homeschooling me, that was the full extend to his care. Mike and Lucifer only told me to get my act together and just work through it. The only ones really caring about me back then were Balthazar and Gadreel, I guess. It was Gadreel who got me to join his workout routine that same year and who got me introduced to martial arts too. That was his way of caring, I guess. Give a starving man a fishing rod and not a fish, so to say. He wanted me to be able to protect myself in the future.«

»That was wise of him.«

»It was, but I hated him all the same back then for forcing me to train with him. I wasn’t interested in learning how to fight or how to protect myself. I hated violence, before the incident and even more so after it. Now I see why he forced me, of course, and I know that he is still blaming himself for what happened to me. He still thinks he could have done something to prevent it.« The ghost of a smile flickered quickly over his face. As a child he had hated his brother after all of this had happened. Maybe a part of him had even blamed Gadreel, but now, as an adult, he knew that there was nothing Gadreel could have done.  

»I get the feeling.« Dean sighed and finally leaned back on the mattress with him. »And I understand him. I would never have thought I would say that, but I start to like him even.«

»You are very much alike.« Castiel found himself agreeing quietly. »Both eager to kill themselves for the sake of their family.«

»Well, I'm not dead yet.« As Castiel slowly turned on his side to face Dean fully, he found him biting his bottom lip. »I can't stop thinking about Adam. He's dead if I don’t give into what they want by the end of this week, Cas.«

»He is dead if you do.« This was not just about saving Adam. It was about saving his own brother too. Gadreel was not the only person who cared for this family. Castiel too didn’t want his brother hurt or dead and he knew that, would he not talk Dean out of it, he would either lose his brother or he would lose Dean. He didn’t even know which one would be worse.

»I just … I can't deal with just staying put and doing nothing, letting other people handle it. I have to do something, Cas. I'm going crazy thinking about not being able to help Adam personally and I wished I could trust Gadreel more. What if I made a mistake? What if he runs off? What if he doesn’t keep his end of the bargain?«

»These are a lot what ifs.« Castiel hummed but he was not successful in humoring him, so, instead, he placed his left arm over Dean's side, resting the crook of his elbow on the dip of Dean's waist. »Do you think … When we get out, we are still able to remain in contact?« It was a silly question and exactly the reason why none of them said what they were to each other. It would only mean additional pain if anything would go wrong and Dean knew that.

»I don’t think so.« He replied with a heavy sigh and their eyes remained locked. Still, in the half-light of their cell it was impossible to say if Dean was bothered by this thought or if he was looking forward to it. He would understand if Dean would just want to forget everything that happened in prison. Not only the assault, but Castiel as well. If there was one thing he knew for certain, Dean wouldn’t want Castiel to meet his family and tell them how they met. »I mean … I don’t think that we will get the chance. If Agent Mills keeps her end of the bargain, we are going to get swept away immediately to different continents, I would assume. She asked me if I spoke any foreign languages … Fuck. I just hope she doesn’t send me to France or something like this.«

»I speak Russian.« Castiel murmured quietly.

»I don’t want them to send you to Russia.« Dean sighed. »I want to get out of here, drag you away to some remote island and just spend the nights watching the stars with you.« As if catching himself saying something as sweet as this and not approving of it or fearing that Cas wouldn’t approve, he cocked a grin. »And fuck, of course.«

»Of course.« Castiel huffed a small laugh. »That sounds nice.«

»Are you nervous about meeting your kids?«

»No.« The answer came quick and Dean’s reply even quicker.

»No?«

»I'm terrified.« He chuckled. »I'm afraid I'm not what Ames told them about me. I'm afraid that I'm not the dad they deserve. I'm afraid I can't give them what they want and need. There's so much that could go wrong. I never thought I would be a father. What if I'm not cut out to be one?«

»Don’t worry.« Dean hummed. »You're going to be a great dad … and heck … maybe I can help you along the way – that is as long as you are not getting shipped to Russia.«

»I hope I'm not going to be shipped to Russia.« He smirked. Making plans about the future seemed odd to him right now, with the thought that they would get separated anyway all too soon, but it was the normal thing to do and it seemed to put Dean's mind on ease even. Castiel, for his part, couldn’t deny that he liked the idea of staying with Dean, of keeping close to him, of just lying somewhere on a beach stargazing. Just the two of them without worries or troubles. Indulging in illusions had never been his strong suit, but right now, he really liked it.

»I think my brothers would like you.« Dean huffed. »Especially Sammy. He's such a nerd … just like you. You two would get along just fine. And you both have the misfortune of having an annoying older brother - or several in your case.«

The next morning came, for Castiel and Dean, with a punch straight to the stomach, figuratively speaking. As they left their cell to go on the hunt for breakfast, despite the fact that Dean would only shove his food around the plate anyway, there was already murmuring all around them and wary looks shot in Castiel’s direction. Something had happened during the night. Something was wrong and there was no misunderstanding about that. Castiel immediately got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach as it was now only a matter of time until both he and Dean would learn what happened. And yes, just as expected, the moment they walked into the cafeteria, it was Benny who came shooting at them with wide eyes and a tray in his hands.

»Did you hear the news?« He turned to Dean rather than Castiel but shot him a wary look anyway.

»What news?« Dean replied with furrowed brows, but Castiel could see how anxious his cellmate truly was.

»Gadreel is dead!«

 

- **End of Chapter 20-**


	21. Chapter 21

**United States Penitentiary Leavenworth, Kansas**

Gadreel was dead. The words still hadn't quite sunken in. He could still not grasp it and as he looked at Castiel in shock, he could only imagine the horror he must be feeling now. To him, this was about losing a valuable asset with Gadreel's sudden and unexpected death. To him, this was about losing a chance of getting his baby brother out alive of the awful situation he was in because of Dean and his work with the FBI. To Castiel, however, this was about losing his older brother. To Castiel, this was about losing the last true alley he had left in his family. To Castiel, this was about losing someone he truly loved and cared for, despite their differences in the past.

To the rest of the prison, however, this was gossip.

»What happened?« Dean turned to Benny after he had forced Castiel to go grab their breakfast before they returned to Benny and the table Dean and Benny usually sat at. He tried to be casual as he asked and gently put down the tray in front of him on the table, while Castiel almost dropped it hard on the metal surface with no restraint whatsoever. He wouldn't outright show how upset he really was, and Dean knew that this just wasn’t an option for the angel. In here, no one but Dean knew that Gadreel was his older brother and Castiel could not just rip off this mask he was wearing ever since he had set foot in this place. Having someone to care for in prison, having someone who was important to oneself was one thing. But having someone like this and having the entire prison know about it, was a whole different can of worms.

It was bad enough already that the entire prison could see that Castiel and Dean were not just fuck-buddies anymore. It was bad enough that the entire prison could see that Dean meant something to Castiel and that Castiel meant something to Dean. The only reason why no one was taking advantage of this weakness that Castiel and Dean both shared was because they were scared shitless ever since Eldon had been killed and his gang taken down. They were untouchable, for now. But would the prison have known how Gadreel and Castiel were related … None of them would have had an easy time throughout the last years.

»I don't know!« Benny replied with wide eyes chewing on his scrambled eggs and toast, apparently a little nervous that Castiel Pellegrino himself had joined them at their table. »His cellmate, Randolph, he was put in solitary yesterday after he got into a fight with another guy in the gym, so Gadreel was alone last night. Apparently, he hung himself. The guards found him hanging from the top bunk. He made a noose out of the sheets to strangle himself. Jesus … that had to have taken ages, Man.«

Dean schooled his face into a mask of calmness as he glanced at Castiel out of the corner of his eyes as Benny shortly lowered his eyes to the food in front of him. He liked Benny, but he was not naïve about the fact that Benny was a gossiper. He couldn’t have him see those concerned glances he would steal every now and again. Castiel wasn't eating. Of course, he wasn't. He held his cutlery clenched so hard that his knuckles had turned white. »Why would he do that?« He asked and tried not to sound too much like a policeman while he did, but instead casual to get Benny to share a little more of the gossip that was going around the prison now.

»Guess he just had enough? I mean … He was in here for quite a while. Sooner or later everyone goes crazy and quite a bunch of those lunatics actually kill themselves each year. I guess it was just a question of time, really.«

»So … The guards found him … and then what?« He carefully kept prying, hoping that he wouldn’t sound too nosy, too inquisitive, too concerned, too bothered by all of this. Gadreel and he might not have been best friends, but he hadn’t been an awful person either. He had helped him when he wouldn’t have needed to and although this was about Castiel and not Dean, he was still thankful.

»What do you mean? They locked the other cells again, of course, to get Gadreel out in peace. He’s probably in the morgue now, or already in the oven.«

»Oven?« Castiel breathed unblinking as Dean looked at him. He looked as if he was not even really here with them at the moment. He was still in shock over the news and that he was talking at all seemed to be a miracle.

»Yeah … Well … Usually, the inmates who die in here get burned. I mean, there's not an indefinite amount of space out on the bone field, you know? And Gadreel … I don't think he had family left who would have cared anyway.« As Benny looked at Castiel all of the sudden, Dean’s heart sank into his stomach. »Or did he? You knew him, right?«

»Everyone knew him.« Castiel replied after a moment, repeating the words he had once said to Dean in a tone of voice that made it unmistakably clear even to Benny, that he should not ask any further questions now. Benny was at least smart enough to understand it and quickly changed the topic. But while Benny was talking, Dean was already zoning out and not paying attention at all, just like Castiel who begun eating, though very reluctantly while Dean, again, didn't get a bite down. What now? Adam was still in grave danger and now they had lost the only person who could have rescued his brother and would have been able to provide the FBI with the evidence needed to get them all out of here, in addition to everything Castiel had already told them.

However, it was only later as they were back in their cell sitting down with a game of checkers on his bed, that Dean actually asked that question. »What do we do now?« It was more like a breath leaving his mouth, staring down at the board game between them. He wanted to tell Castiel how sorry he was for his loss, he wanted to comfort him and make sure the angel knew he was still there for him if he needed him, that he was not just using him or his brother for getting out of here or for getting his brother into safety, but he just couldn't say the words because his mind was with Adam. Gadreel was dead and surely the Pellegrinos already knew it. They would think he had done what they told him to do. Then what? Could he expect Gabriel's return to order him to kill Cas next like Gadreel had predicted? What now? What would happen to Adam? He couldn't even think straight anymore.

»I don't know.« Castiel replied after a long moment of hesitation and the sound of these three words out of his mouth was one of utter defeat for the first time since Dean knew this man. With Gadreel’s death, he had lost all hope of raising his children and of ever being free again. They both knew now that they would die in here and there was no way around that. The threat that Eldon’s goons had meant might be gone by now and most inmates saw Castiel and Dean as a force to be reckoned with and not just some fuckboy in Dean any longer ever since the rumor spread that Dean had actually killed Eldon, but the Pellegrinos were still here. There were still those low-level scumbags in here just waiting to strike and they would undoubtedly go against Castiel in no time if Dean wouldn't after being ordered to.

»Who killed him?« Dean quietly mumbled more to himself than to Castiel. The police officer inside of him wanted to clear up this mystery, but of course, he knew that he wouldn't be able to. The evidence was probably destroyed anyway and the possibility that Gadreel really had killed himself still remained too, although this was a possibility they both had already pushed far away.

»I don't know.« Castiel replied once again in that same defeated tone from before. »Maybe the guards are in on it.«

»If they are … Adam is dead too.«

»Probably.« After a second of silence, they exchanged a look across their board game and for once, Dean Winchester truly didn't know what to think or feel about this situation. Would he soon get the news of his brother's death? Would Gabriel come to gloat and tell him just how much his brother had suffered? Would he show pictures to Dean? »I’m sorry, Dean.« Castiel spoke up again. »I really wanted to help you.«

»It's not your fault.« It felt like it was, somehow, but Dean knew that it wasn't. It wasn't Castiel’s fault that Dean had gotten involved with him and the whole Pellegrino mess. He could have refused getting involved. But something had drawn him to Castiel and now … Well, here they were. Stuck in this whirlwind of emotions, of grief, of feeling utterly helpless and lost and they had only each other to cling to. However, undenounced to them, even this small bit of comfort was about to get taken from them.

It was during dinner that same awful day that all of it escalated. The attack was completely uncalled for and yet not unexpected, at least not to Dean. He had just grabbed his tray from the counter to get his food as he was suddenly grabbed by the left shoulder sending a pang of pain shooting right through his entire body. Whirling around to face his attacker proved to be a mistake because immediately he was greeted by a punch to his jaw that sent him stumbling against the counter. After this, everything happened too quickly to fully grasp.

Dean didn't think as he retaliated and charged at his attacker. Too much pent-up anger and frustration and worry made him go berserk on the large man in front of him. Tiny was by no means a guy he would generally mess around with, but at this moment, he didn't care. He didn't even care as he noticed how Castiel jumped in to help him or how long it took the guards to react to their fight. Tiny didn't stand a chance against both of them and only as they had wrestled him to the ground did the guards finally rush in to get them off of the large man. It was an enigma to Dean why the hell Tiny had attacked him at all. He was a giant, yes, and not in here without a damn good reason, but until now, he hadn't stricken Dean as particularly violent or much of a troublemaker. He had seemed quite peaceful on the contrary.

Castiel and he were still fighting as they were grabbed by the guards. They both knew that they would get thrown into solitary for this misdemeanor and though Dean really couldn't care less about behaving now that everything had crumbled down anyway for him, he was still livid and thus he fought like a raging animal against the guards as they grabbed him and Castiel. There was shouting and cheering all around, other inmates egging them on against the guards but as one of the guards finally had enough of this show and clubbed Dean over the head with his baton, the world turned black at once and Dean fell into an endless pit of darkness.

A part of him had maybe hoped not to wake up so that he wouldn't need to face this unfair and utterly cruel world again, sadly, he didn't possess that much luck and as Dean opened his eyes this time, the world was still dark, though not as all-consuming as before. He lay on a smelly thin mattress on a stone floor and could only groan as this realization actually struck him. Solitary confinement. He didn't wish to think about what he might have caught just by lying on this soiled old mattress as he slowly rolled off of it and onto the ground instead. His head hurt like a bitch, just like his jaw where Tiny had hit him with his meaty fist.

»Cas?« He groaned out as he inched closer to his cell door. Weird, how his first instinct was to call for the other man. »Castiel?« And weird how, as he heard movement from the cell opposite of his, he started to feel a little more at ease again.

»Dean?« Castiel's gravelly voice sounded from across the narrow hallway and moments later, he heard him inch closer to the door too. It was too bad that the light was so dim that they couldn't actually see each other. Not that it would matter in their current situation.

»Yeah.« He huffed. At least they could still talk to each other without some guard barging in on them to put them into cells that were farther away from each other. It was almost as if they wanted them to be still in such close proximity to one another. Weird. One would assume they would put them on different ends of the hallway to get room between them. Yet they had made talking to each other even more comfortable than the first time that they had been in these cells. »How are you?« He quietly asked as he leaned closer to the door, resting his aching head against the cold metal of the bars his door was made of. »Everything alright over there?«

»Peachy.« Castiel replied and drew a small chuckle from Dean as he used that phrasing against Dean.

»Liar.« Dean smirked. He was certain Castiel knew how he meant it though. He might not be the most socially adept person in the world, but he could usually understand Dean’s humor at least. It didn't take long until Castiel turned the question on him next.

»How are you? They were quite rough to you back there.«

»Head hurts like a mean son of a bitch, but otherwise I’m good.« He sighed. »I wish I would know what has gone into Tiny, though.«

»I doubt we will learn what this was all about.« He was probably right and that was no surprise to anyone. »But I don't think that this really was a coincidence or born out of boredom and impulse on Tiny’s part, Dean.«

»You mean the attack was planned?« Dean replied with a frown.

»I doubt that Tiny suddenly decided to attack you for no good reason at all, Dean. He had no problems with you earlier, so why should he, all of the sudden, decide that you are a great punching bag? Especially after … Eldon’s accident.« They couldn't talk openly and they were both painfully aware of that. But it was true, ever since Eldon’s violent death, most people didn't even dare to look at Dean the wrong way. Needless to say, he had enjoyed knowing that all those assholes knew exactly that Dean had been the one who had killed Eldon. Well, of course, they hadn't _known_ per se, but they had all suspected it and that had been enough in this regard. It had been quite nice to walk this prison without having anyone stare at his ass longingly or catcall at him when he was walking by.

»But why would anyone want to use Tiny like this? I mean, if we come to the conclusion that Tiny didn't decide this on his own volition for some deeper motive. What would anyone gain from this attack or from having us thrown into these cells? And who would gain anything from it?«

He could only imagine that Castiel was shrugging his broad shoulders. »I wish I'd know.«

Spending much time in this cell was even worse than the first time. Castiel and he tried to kill time by playing games across the hallway, but that quickly lost its appeal after they got warned to stop by the guards the first two times to keep quiet. Plus, playing ‘I spy with my little eye’ was not much of a challenge when they were surrounded by grey empty walls, dirty mattresses on the ground and a toilet in the corners of their cells.

»When I was younger, I wanted to become a rock star.« Dean hummed after a while. Two days in and they were talking about their childhoods already. Not that it would be the first time either. Castiel had told him how he used to hide from his oldest brothers and how he used to play hide and seek in the mansion with Gadreel and Balthazar, Dean had told him about how he had taught Sammy to skateboard. Castiel had told him how he wanted to become a beekeeper as a child and now it was Dean’s turn. »I thought I would be great on a stage, you know? With a guitar and all of that good shit.« As he made a point of playing air guitar with a god awful shrieking sound, he managed to draw out a laugh from Cas even.

»Why didn't you? You have the looks for it.« Cas huffed in mockery from the other side of the hallway.

»Thanks, Sunshine.« He chuckled. »Well, turned out I suffer from stage fright quite badly. My dad actually bought me a guitar and paid for lessons and then that. Not to mention I have zero talent when it comes to singing or playing guitar.« He then laughed. »Sammy and Adam on the other hand … Well … they were never afraid to walk up in front of a crowd. Odd, right? I mean, wasn't I supposed to be the cool one who would do such things?«

»They had a good role model.«

»Apparently.« He sighed. »That's the thing with being the oldest. When you're doing a good job, your younger siblings think you are invincible and know no fear while this couldn't be any farther from the truth.«

Castiel hummed a response that he couldn't clearly understand before he cleared his throat. »I thought that about Gadreel and Balthazar too.« He then admitted. »Everything they did seemed to work out while everything I started was bound to fail miserably. I start to get it now that they struggled too.«

»Of course they did.« Dean smirked. »Everyone does. Sometimes I wished I would have made this clearer to Adam and Sam - that they are allowed to struggle, I mean. Maybe everything would have turned out differently then.« Maybe he had expected too much of his brothers, maybe he had demanded too much. Maybe it had not been them putting Dean on such a pedestal but the other way around. He had expected them to be better than him.

It was right then, as Castiel wanted to say something, that they were alarmed by hurried footsteps coming down the hall. It was impossible to say what time it was, but dinner had been served around an hour ago and night had probably already fallen. »What the hell?« He murmured as he got to his feet, closing his hands around the bars of his door to try and peak out through the bars. What he saw surprised him to no end. There was a group of men in dark suits and overalls hurrying down the hallway, two of them had stretchers with them that they shoved down the hallway. He couldn't help but feel panic rising in his throat as he noticed that two other guys were carrying body bags under their arms.

※※※※※※※

It all had happened quite quickly and Castiel was still a little confused about all of it. The FBI had arrived at the prison around eight in the night and quickly, without much explanation, Dean and he had been forced inside two body bags, strapped to the stretchers they had brought with them and taken out of the prison only to be loaded inside of some vehicle and be driven for hours as it had seemed. It was impossible for them to say where they were after they had been allowed to leave the car. Although they had not been allowed out of the body bags, resting in the back of the truck, at least they had been unzipped enough to breathe and yet forced to stay quiet. This entire operation seemed risky in every aspect but when they arrived hours later somewhere in the woods in the dark of the night, Castiel started to get why.

The house the truck had stopped in front, was undoubtedly a safe house. And he was breathing in fresh air as if it would be the first time in the last five years. Around the house, the ground was covered in a thick layer of snow but they had no time to marvel at the sight ay they were quickly ushered inside by the FBI agents.

The house was more a cabin for a weekend getaway. There was only one room with an adjoining bathroom and a pantry. Twin beds were shoved against the far wall separated from the rest of the room only by a half wall to the side. He couldn't see air-conditioning or a heater but there was a fire going in the fireplace to his right-hand side where a few chairs and a comfortable looking couch were gathered. To his left-hand side was a kitchenette with a small round table and three wooden chairs. A woman with blonde hair that she wore in a ponytail sat at the table waiting for them, as it seemed, dressed in a nice looking black suit. She was a little on the chubby side, but her round face was friendly as she smiled encouragingly at the odd couple walking into the house in orange jumpsuits.

»Why hello there!« She greeted them almost a little too cheerfully considering that this whole situation was beyond confusing for them both. »I'm Agent Donna Hanscum, FBI.«

»Where is Agent Mills?« Dean asked and just by the way he phrased that question and how he was looking at the woman sitting at the table told Castiel how suspicious he really was of their situation. He didn’t trust any of that and who could blame him? They had been pretty much kidnapped and driven around for hours without a hint of what was going on. And now they were here in the middle of the woods with FBI Agents guarding the door they came through, without a clue where they even were and what happened.

»She was needed elsewhere.« Agent Hanscum replied with a smile before she gestured to the empty chairs at the table, inviting the men to sit with her. »That’s why I'm here. Agent Mills and I are partners and it was her wish that I would take care of this part of the operation.«

»What operation?« Castiel replied as he pulled one chair away from the table and slowly sat down while Dean remained standing behind him, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

»Isn't that obvious?« He asked but as Castiel looked up at him, he was staring at the FBI lady. »It's happening, isn’t it? You guys are going in for the raid and don’t want us in prison just in case? So what's the story there? Did we get killed or did we kill ourselves?«

»You killed yourself in solitary confinement.« Donna smiled as she leaned back. »You managed to unscrew a screw from the toilet and used it to slit your wrists. Only two people in prison know the truth about it and they are absolutely trustworthy.«

»So … We are dead.« Dean concluded with a small frown. »What does that mean from now on? Are we going to get shipped to a different country tomorrow or what happens now? Can I at least tell my family or speak to them again?« He could only vaguely understand the horror Dean must feel at this moment. He had no family that would be concerned for him or shocked by his death. His children didn’t know him and no one would inform Amelia anyway. Dean on the other hand … His family had gone through so much already. He must be paralyzed with the fear what the news of his death would do to them.

»Well, that depends on how the operation turns out, Mr. Winchester. Right now our first objective is to locate and rescue your brother from his kidnappers.«

»And how are you going to do that?« Dean growled almost. He didn’t want to hear any of that because he didn’t want to get his hopes up without damn good reason and Castiel knew him well enough to tell. Castiel, on the other hand, suddenly realized what was going on and he couldn’t help the breath of relief that seemed to have been stuck in his throat for days now.

»Gadreel.« He mumbled and the smile on Donna's face widened. »He isn’t dead. You took him.« As the realization fully struck him, he was thankful that he was already sitting down, otherwise, he would have probably slumped to the floor. It was true that he had been crushed by the news of his brother's death and yes, in the quietude of their cells and the darkness of solitary confinement, Castiel had shed tears for his brother who had meant so much to him despite their differences, despite their hardships. He had thought Gadreel had died thinking that he would never be forgiven for what happened to Castiel in the past and the pain of that had eaten away at him from the inside. At least he had wanted his brother to know that he had forgiven him a long time ago already. The pain that he would never get to talk to his brother again and settle things had been almost too much to bear.

»Bingo.« She chuckled. »Wasn’t easy, we first had to get rid of his cellmate, but it could have been harder, I assume. Getting you two into solitary confinement from where we could take you more easily, was a whole lot harder.«

»So Tiny attacked me because he was made to do it.« Dean concluded with a huff of air leaving his mouth as he relaxed his posture just a bit.

»He was very easy to persuade.« She smirked. »Apparently you, Mr. Winchester, insulted his mother during your first week. He was still craving revenge for that. Your brother, Mr. Pellegrino, agreed to work with us a week ago but we had to wait for the right moment to extract him from prison. He is now currently working with Agent Mills and a handful of other agents at finding Mr. Winchester's brother, he also gave us the information we needed to raid every last facility your family operates in addition to the information we already got from you before. We now have all names of every last member of the Pellegrino family and are ready to strike in the early morning hours. Until all of this went down and every last member of them is captured and sent into custody, you are to stay here.«

»And then?« Dean sighed. »Witness protection?«

»As I said, that depends. Of course, witness protection would be the easiest road to go, but I can understand that this is not the most ideal outcome for you both personally. If everything works according to plan, maybe we can reunite you with your family in no time, Mr. Winchester, but I would advise you not to get your hopes up in advance.« With that she rose from her spot at the table with another of her wide smiles. »I would advise you to get some rest now. I'll come back in the morning, until then a few of my men are hiding not too far away – just in case. Please understand that we cannot just leave you out here unsupervised. We have cameras positioned inside the cabin, you are, after all, still convicts for now.«

They still couldn’t believe it even after Agent Hanscum had left them alone inside the cabin. All of this had happened too fast and was still too confusing to realize that it was indeed true. They were free – somewhat at least. They weren't behind bars any longer but in a cabin in the middle of the woods god knew where, surrounded by trees and snow and nothing for probably quite a few miles. Castiel found himself shivering as Donna closed the door behind her and locked it from the outside. Well, they were still captives but he could ignore a locked cabin door for now. There was so much going on inside his head other than being locked inside this cabin for now.

Gadreel was still alive and he was helping the FBI like he promised. The FBI had feigned his and Dean's deaths to keep them safe for a little while longer during all of this, tomorrow his family would be captured and hopefully locked up forever and he and Dean would be free, maybe even free to be with their families, maybe even free to stay together. They were safe for now and they would stay in here until all of this would be over and done. Maybe it was foolish to be so hopeful but at the moment hope was all he had as he plunged down on the left of the twin beds. He didn’t know where the cameras were located but he assumed that it wouldn’t be wise to try anything with Dean while being watched by the FBI, not that he would have the right mind for it anyway right now.

»I'm going to see my kids.« He muttered more to himself than to Dean who was still lingering by the kitchenette and started rummaging through drawers and cupboards as if to see what they had. He was probably starving after the scarce dinner and the long drive.

»Jackpot!« Dean suddenly exclaimed as he turned around with a package of cookies in his hand. With that he came back to Castiel and dropped down on the same bed he sat on before he ripped open the package and shoved his hand inside. However, instead of shoving cookies into his own mouth, he put a few in Castiel's hand, kicking off his sneakers and then turning to devour a bunch of cookies himself. »I can't believe it. Can you?«

»No.« Castiel huffed between bites. »But it's true, isn’t it? We're out, for now. And Gadreel will save your brother. Everything … Everything will be okay again, right?«

»I guess so.« They devoured the entire package of cookies in silence before settling down. Castiel was tired as hell although he was still excited and on high alert. As he kicked off his shoes and dropped down on his back, however, he felt as if he would fall asleep right away. Just as he was pulling the heavy blanket over his body, Dean seemed to have other plans and seemed eager to reorganize their housing situation in pushing the other bed closer to Castiel's until they were fully shoved together, drawing a smirk from Castiel in the process.

»Don’t laugh.« Dean grinned before flopping down on his bed. »I'm a man of habit. You should learn to live with that before you get annoyed with my morning routine in the future. Just so you know it, I like to sing badly while making breakfast and I like to play loud rock music when fixing my car or cleaning.«

»You don’t hear me complain.« Castiel huffed already feeling oddly at ease with just the thought of having a normal life with Dean outside of prison. It suddenly all seemed just so near that he could actually see it play out in front of him. He could see Dean lying under some car while fixing it up with rock music blasting from his stereo while he and his children came by to collect him. »What are you going to do when we are free?«

»I don't know yet. Probably getting horribly drunk.«

»That’s a good idea.«

 

**-End of Chapter 21-**


	22. Chapter 22

**Hell**

The pain was unbearable by now. He couldn't move his hands without feeling the pain shooting through his entire body, making him gasp and spasm in agony. Lucifer Pellegrino was not named without a damn good reason after the devil, at least that much Adam Winchester now understood. He felt as if there wasn't a single bone left in his body that wasn't broken although he knew that this was bullshit. Lucifer, despite everything, had still been controlled enough to not go mental on him the way he surely wanted to. He seemed to have waited for something before he would take him out and enjoy it while doing so and by now he wasn’t too sure if he should be thankful.

Still, in the darkness of his cell, Adam couldn't do anything but press his broken hand and mangled fingers to his chest protectively, his right arm hanging loosely from its socket after Lucifer had crudely dislocated his shoulder what seemed like a few days ago. Maybe only hours ago. It was impossible to say and by now, Adam had lost all track of time. He wouldn't get anything to eat and only one glass of water each day to drink. Lucifer had found it funny to pour a bit of salt in the water last time, though. The intention was clear. He didn't wish to ensure Adam’s survival. He didn't care if he would die from starvation or dehydration which was all too close by now. In the beginning, bringing him water to drink each day, had been nothing more than a rouse to make Adam believe that he had a chance of getting out of here alive.

He knew better by now. Lucifer might have killed him right away and just acted as if he was still alive to have leverage on Dean. No, this was not about some deal he had made and wouldn't keep anyway. This torture was for Lucifer himself while someone else was keeping the reins on him, not allowing him to kill Adam just yet but allowing him to have his fun while he waited nonetheless.

He had started to hallucinate somewhere along the lines and didn't quite know if it was because of the pain he was going through or because of the dehydration settling in completely and turning his brain into mush. The shadows around him kept moving, kept inching closer towards him and he had not the tiniest chance to escape them while he was pressing his back against the cold stone wall. Lucifer had stripped him the other day, finding joy in having the teenager shiver from the cold that held his body tightly gripped. First, he had been certain that Lucifer would rape him as he had torn off Adam’s clothes and he had screamed and struggled with new found energy like a madman. To his relief, Lucifer had planned on doing no such thing. He had just wanted to humiliate him further and worsen the situation altogether.

Being naked at another man’s mercy was even worse and still, somehow Adam didn't even care anymore. He lost all energy to care. His mind was with Dean. When the physical torture wouldn't be enough for Lucifer, he would retort to mental torture, telling him in great detail what he knew about their family, what he knew about his brothers, about Sammy’s relapse, about how Sammy was out there looking for him like a maniac, about how Sammy would be the next on his list and how he couldn't wait to tear him apart limb by limb just for funzies and how he fantasized about having Sam here already to show him what he was doing to Adam to make the suffering even worse. And he told him about Dean, about how his noble big brother who had walked into prison with his head held high because of Adam’s crime had been brutally assaulted in December and nearly died from it, how he had probably screamed and squealed during it and how it would be just a matter of time until his brother would be attacked the same way again. Adam had tried his best to block out these thoughts, had tried his best to act as if Lucifer was only lying to him to make it all worse, but deep down he had the heartbreaking feeling that Lucifer Pellegrino was telling the truth - and that was even worse than every lie he could possibly tell him.

As the door opened with a loud metal screech again, Adam felt as if this might be the day he would die. He was almost glad about it. He almost longed for death and the sweet relief it would bring him. He had no energy left to fight, no will left to keep going. The air around him stank like piss and shit and vomit and blood and he just wanted it to end. He just wanted to be free and left alone and released, even if it meant he had to die.

»I must say« The voice of his personal torturer sounded from the door, the only source of light was in the hallway behind Lucifer making his body appear like a dark shadowy figure against the dim light in his back, like something from his nightmares, before Lucifer turned on the lights inside his torture chamber at once. »This is starting to get boring, you know? You could at least try fighting a little bit more, right? I mean, you killed a bitch before. Surely you are not that whimsical little pussy I see here in front of me. It's no fun when the other person doesn't play along, Honey. I start to feel like … I don't know … that our relationship has become very one-sided. I mean, every day I come here and give and give and give, and you keep taking, Babe. I have to admit, that's not very healthy and I think that we should break up.«

His words almost drew a chuckle out of Adam. That was just how desperate he was. »So what now?« He heard himself asking but his throat was filled with razor blades and his voice was hoarse and garbled. He could feel copper in his mouth still and wondered if he would ever be able to taste anything else. »How are you going to do it?«

Lucifer let out a sigh as he slammed the door shut behind him and walked over to the table he kept his instruments on. The fact alone that he was keeping his weapons out in the open like this told Adam everything he needed to know about this scenario. Lucifer didn't even fear that Adam would get up and use a knife on him. That was how much he was in control of the situation and Adam, though he had thought about arming himself, knew that he wouldn't stand a chance anyway. He had just given up. Maybe that was worse. »You are so impatient, Adam! You really should work on that.« He then mumbled taking various tools from the table and inspecting them. He would clean them all after using them on Adam but to him, they still looked dirty. As Lucifer grabbed his favorite knife from the table, Adam felt relief wash over him. A quick death, perhaps. But then, Lucifer put down the knife again and grabbed a claw hammer. His chest tightened in fear as it had been this hammer that Lucifer had used to crush his left hand and fingers. Would he be bludgeoned to death until there would be nothing left of his face and head? It would probably be the most gruesome way of going out. It was either that or being emboweled, as Lucifer had once told him a story of how he had done exactly that to a guy who had looked at one of his little brother the wrong way.

Adam was not dumb enough to question the truth of these stories. By now he knew enough not to.

With the hammer in hand, Lucifer finally turned away from the table and stepped closer towards Adam. »Well I have to say, it was nice as long as it lasted, but all good things have to come to an end, I guess.« As Lucifer was close and rose the hammer for the first blow, Adam knew that there would be no way out now. A part of him was almost glad. He would wish his death wouldn't be just so gruesome, though.

The loud bang that followed seemed to sound outside of his head although Adam was certain that it was the sound of his skull being bashed in. However, there was no pain, which was probably a bad sign. Then too much happened too fast for Adam to fully grasp until it was over. There was suddenly shouting, another loud bang that almost sounded like a gun being fired, a scream ripping from someone who sounded an awful lot like Lucifer and a storm of heavy footsteps. It was this moment that Adam realized that maybe today would not be the day he died after all, before he allowed his body to give in and drown in the darkness creeping in on him from the edge of his field of vision.

※※※※※※※

**Somewhere in the midst of nowhere**

Three whole days had passed with no new information entirely. Three days in which Castiel and he had been left wondering what was going on out there in the real world, far removed from their small little sanctuary out here in the woods. It could have been awesome, just the two of them in this cabin, far removed from the world and any kind of trouble. They had even actually been allowed outside a few times now - under strict supervision, of course, and discovered that their cabin wasn't too far away from a small lake.

Dean wanted to say that he had gotten less itchy and antsy with each day, but that couldn't be any farther from the truth. He was, if anything, even antsier and more nervous than ever in his life and, at least, Castiel seemed to feel the same way. They had started squabbling quite a bit, grating at each other's nerves in this new situation, but they still found support in each others company, oddly enough. Everything Cas did seemed annoying to Dean all of the sudden and, he was sure, that it was the same the other way around. However, they had not yet killed each other and Dean didn't know if this was because Castiel was truly an angel or had just exceptional control over himself.

It were tiny things bothering both of them, like Castiel taking his food out of the microwave when there were only five seconds left on the clock and leaving it like this or Dean putting an empty carton of milk back into the fridge ‘like a caveman’, as Castiel had put it once. Thankfully, they never ran low on food or other supplies. The FBI had stacked the cabin well with all things necessary and even the water pressure was exceptional. Even clothes they had supplied them with so that they wouldn't need to run around in those ugly ass orange jumpsuits all the time. After they had redressed on their first morning, Dean had actually taken a knife to his jumpsuit, cutting off the number he had been given in prison before he had thrown the ugly orange overall into the fire crackling inside their cabin under Castiel’s confused stare. Well, he was one sentimental son of a bitch, truly. Yes, his time in prison was nothing he would like to remember, and yet it was a part of his story.

However, their torture finally came to an end on the fourth day when Agent Hanscum came back to the cabin with a package of powdery donuts in her arms and the brightest smile Dean had ever seen on any human beings face. They had sat down at the kitchen table once more, the donuts between them as Agent Hanscum gave them the rundown of what happened these past day during which Castiel and Dean had been filed away safely inside this cabin, not even able to fuck to kill time except for when they had been in the shower together for the cameras that were on them the entire time. To Castiel it didn't seem to have made a difference whether they were watched by the FBI or not, but to Dean it did. It was one thing to have sex in the showers in prison when other inmates could walk in on them any time, or if they had sex in their cell with everyone around to hear them and a whole different thing out here, in freedom, watched by members of a government agency. He had always been a very sexual being, yet, he liked his privacy. As Agent Hanscum was done retelling the story of how the FBI had won their fight against the organised crime in Kansas, it took both Castiel and Dean at least two solid minutes before any of them was able to speak up again. It was Castiel who broke the spell.

»It's … over?« Castiel breathed, his words spoken so carefully as if he was sure he would curse the situation would he dare saying them too loudly. Knowing their luck, this was probably true. »I mean … You … You got them? All of them?«

The Pellegrinos had been brought down. To Dean, that still sounded like some mad thing to say, like nothing more than a nice little fantasy and yet Agent Hanscum seemed too serious and excited for him not to believe her. Michael, Lucifer, and Raphael Pellegrino had been caught and brought into custody at the FBI headquarters, and the police, in cooperation with the FBI, had managed to detain every person involved with this family. Of course, they would not all be send behind bars, but it was a start. It was a move in the right direction and really, the important thing was to get the four main players and their most trusted goons behind bars. The only downer in all of this was the fate of Gabriel Pellegrino.

»What about Adam?« Dean cut him off grabbing the edge of the table out of reflex without even realizing that he was doing it. »Is he alive? Is he okay?«

»Everything went according to plan, Mr. Winchester.« Donna smiled as she grabbed another donut before shoving the package close to Dean who felt as if he would throw up even from the smell. Under different circumstances, he would have munched the entire package down already but during the last few days he had hardly been able to even get down one single bite. »Mr. Pellegrino, Gadreel, was able to direct us exactly to the location your brother was kept and, even better, we were able to detain Lucifer Pellegrino right in the midst of attacking your brother.« Dean wanted to shout at her, telling that this was not good at all, but she was quick enough to cut him off right away. »Like this we were able to catch him red-handed so to say. Your brother is at the hospital now, Mr. Winchester, but the worst lies behind him.«

How was any of this good? Of course, it was an epic win that Lucifer had been caught and that there would probably be no way for him to escape conviction now after he had been caught in the act of attacking his little brother, but Dean could not find anything good in that still. Adam was hurt. He was hurt enough to have been sent to the hospital. In what world was this good? »I want to see him.« The words sounded much more desperate than he was willing to admit. »Please, Agent Hanscum. Let me see him. It's all my fault that he was even dragged into all of this. I just want to know he’s okay. I don't care if you send me away afterwards.«

»What about Gadreel?« Castiel, chimed up. It was sometimes easy to forget because of Castiel’s rather calm and laid-back attitude at times, but Gadreel was his older brother and he still loved him, he still felt connected to him, maybe even the rest of his family despite how they had been treating him.

»He was taken into witness protection immediately after the operation went down, Mr. Pellegrino.« It was still so odd hearing anyone call Castiel that. To Dean he was Castiel Novak, not Castiel Pellegrino, although he knew that this was not his real name but only a means to keep his and Gadreel’s connection behind bars a secret and to not draw negative attention to the name Pellegrino with two of the core family members behind bars. Well, this would from now on be the least of Michael Pellegrino’s worries, he assumed. »He is about to go through the procedure of our Witness Protection Program, as it was his wish, and possibly leave the United States. You have to understand that, in order of protecting your brother, we can’t tell you were he is going to be sent to.« Donna turned to Castiel and he could see the disappointment in his eyes. Gadreel was alive and he was well and more or less free, but still Castiel had lost his brother anyway. »I can't tell you yet if you will be able to visit your brother at the hospital, Mr. Winchester. He is under strict protection due to his status as a witness in this operation and until we can be certain that there will be no danger for you or your brother out there, you remain here for the time being. I’m sorry. I understand how you feel.« He snorted but Donna didn't seem phased by it. »I will do everything in my power to get you both out of this cabin as soon as possible, but you have to understand that, as long as Gabriel Pellegrino is still free and roaming this country, your safety can’t be ensured.«

»I don't think you need to worry about him.« Castiel quietly spoke up again. »Gabriel has probably already left the country. Knowing him he is … in Mexico or Italy or somewhere else where it's warm. He won't bother us.« They hadn't talked about it yet, but of course, it was odd that Gabriel, of all people had been able to escape this operation of the FBI. It was almost as if he had been given a tip, but if that was true, and if Gadreel might have been the one to tip his older brother off, then why did Gabriel not warn his older siblings too?

»Mr. Pellegrino, I do understand that you want to get out of this situation and protect a family member but-«

»Oh no, don't get me wrong. I would love to see Gabe behind bars.« Castiel huffed, interrupting Donna before she could say anymore about Castiel wanting to protect Gabriel. »He might not be as bad as the other three, but he is not innocent either. He is … a great big bag of dicks - but he won't be a danger to any of us. Gabriel isn't stupid. If he has left the country you won't ever see him again. He has always been a master in dropping off the radar.«  

Of course, it would be naive to think that this would do the trick in this situation, but Dean couldn't blame Cas to try at least. No matter what he would tell Donna or the rest of the FBI, Gabriel was still his brother and at least one of the nicer ones and that had to count for something, he assumed. After everything Castiel had ever told him about his older siblings, at least Gabriel had never physically hurt him and never went out of his way to push him down in any way. Castiel, despite what he told Donna, still had no reason to hate Gabriel. Maybe that was why Dean liked that little weirdo so much. He did not blindly hate everyone in his family, whether they would deserve to be hated by him or not. He hated with damn good reason and only because there was no other way. And, after everything Dean had heard about the Pellegrinos, they deserved to be hated by their youngest family member. Still, he was aware that Castiel would even give Michael, Lucifer and Raphael a second chance, would they not have been such cruel bastards towards their youngest.

Gabriel Pellegrino was as far from being decent as the rest of this pack, and it was true that he had never done anything to protect Castiel in any way from his brothers, but Castiel cared for him in some way and that was enough for Dean to consider not hating that man’s guts for showing him a photo of his tortured brother. In the end, it was as Cas had told him. Gabriel was following orders, no more no less. Then again, the Nazis had just followed orders as well, right? This did not absolve Gabriel from his sins. But where was the line? Where does one decide whether the line was crossed or not? Castiel had also just followed orders back in the day, when he had been butchering innocent people and tearing them apart so that their organs could be sold on the black market, right? However … Castiel had been forced and though it was true that Castiel could have just lied to him in this regard, Dean didn't believe that he actually had. He believed that Castiel had told him the truth all this time. He had been too torn about his past for it to be a lie.

»You really think that it's wise to have Gabriel out there in the open?« Dean turned to him after a moment or two of silence in the room.

»Gabriel is the peacemaker.« Castiel finally remarked with a sigh. »The only thing he ever really wanted to do was to get out of all of this, or for it to finally be over. But with a family like ours, that wouldn't have been possible - or very wise. Now it's his chance to get away and he will use it. He would be stupid if not. We will not see him again.« He couldn't quite tell what he should make of the sound of Castiel at these words. He seemed torn, maybe even sad. He had lost his entire family today and was now left with nothing at all - maybe not even with the chance of seeing his own children.

»What can you tell me about the other three?« Donna asked after a while as she leaned on her crossed arms on the table, looking at Castiel with great interest as the question left her mouth. Maybe that was understandable. No one really knew anything about the Pellegrino family except for what they had been willing to show the public and that was only a bunch of lies anyway. Now she could talk to someone who had been there all this time.

»Mike is the good son.« Castiel huffed quietly and leaned back in his creaky old wooden chair, crossing his arms slightly. »When Dad died, he took over and he took it damn seriously - just like it had been expected of him. His mother was adamant to make him a proper leader and that he was. After Dad’s death, Michael ruled over the family with an iron fist, even over his own mother until she died a few years after Mike’s take-over. Lucifer, on the other hand, was always Dad’s favorite, much to Mike’s dismay. No matter how good Mike did, he could never reach the status Lucifer had in our Dad’s eyes. Lucifer could do no wrong in his eyes. He took Dad’s death the worst of all of us. He had been an asshole before but afterward, he became a monster. Lucifer always acted out from the beginning and he had always been Mike’s bloodhound, but he got worse after Dad’s death. Raphael, on the other hand … He might look unsuspicious and calm, but he’s far from it. He is one sleazy bastard and he knows every damn trick in the book. He was always on Mike’s side no matter what. He will be the hardest to detain but he is the one who has probably the most bodies buried in his backyard - figuratively speaking, of course.« Castiel paused a second at this but only to brush his hand through his hair. »Raphael was the one taking care that Gadreel would not get the death sentence and that I would get thrown into the same jail as he. He was also the one that we were convicted not as Pellegrinos because it was his job to avoid bad press.«  

»It sounds as if you already know what will happen.« Agent Hanscum frowned and lowered her gaze on Castiel once more, maybe even a little more suspicious than ever before.

»Of course, I do. Michael and Lucifer will get their best lawyers and they won’t talk until they are there with them. You would fare better if you would start digging in their backyards as well because they too do not have white vests for certain. They will try playing on time, so the evidence you have should be waterproof, otherwise, you won’t be able to hold them for long.« And then the real danger would ensue, as all of them knew. If Michael, Lucifer, and Raphael would get out of jail, they would be dead. Somehow, however, Dean was not even afraid of this possibility. He wouldn't call it trust in the FBI or their justice system, yet … His brother was saved and that was really all that mattered to him, despite the fact that they were still not yet out of the uncanny valley. Because it was true what Castiel said. Those assholes were sleazy motherfuckers and they would try everything to avoid persecution, maybe even going as far as to call for help with their more influential friends that they had. There was, after all, a reason why it was usually so hard to get rid of people like the Pellegrino family. Maybe that was why all of this felt to Dean as if he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

※※※※※※※

As he opened his eyes, sunlight was streaming inside the room he was in and the darkness was lifted from his world, hopefully forever. There was a beeping sound filling the room around him, a regular beep-beep-beep going steadily, and it took him a moment, until he was able to realize that he was hooked to a machine that was monitoring his heartbeat resulting in that beeping sound. He was no stranger to that sound either, not after Sammy nearly died last year.

He needed a second, closing his eyes and opening them again as if to make sure that he really was out of that hellish room he had been kept in for an eternity, before he heard a new sound to his right-hand side that sounded like a faint little grunt. »Adam?« Suddenly, a deep voice spoke up and drew Adam’s attention towards it. What if this was just one of his hallucinations? What if this was a fever dream and he was still in this room, still waiting for Lucifer Pellegrino to kill him?

However, there, in an uncomfortable looking plastic chair, sat his brother Sam, hunched in on himself just slightly before he sat up straight again. As Sam realized that Adam really was awake, there was a smile spreading across his face. He looked relieved to see him and quickly moved closer with his chair dragging the legs of the piece of furniture over the linoleum floor. »Hey, lil’ brother. You look like shit.« Adam would have laughed would his entire head not hurt so badly. But now, as he slowly regained control over his body and his brain, most importantly, he started to remember things too.

The abduction, Lucifer, Angelina who asked him out for the school dance, the torture, certain death at the hands of this monster in this dark room. Maybe he was indeed dead and all of this was only a dream of the afterlife, or Heaven, perhaps. Then again, he would probably never go to Heaven, would he? Hell, who was he kidding? He would be the last person to see Heaven. So, in conclusion, this had to be reality then. It was either that or Hell and yet he was still unwilling to accept that he wasn’t inside this room any longer, that he was free again, that he survived.

No, he had been rescued, Adam told himself. At the last minute, someone had come to rescue him. He remembered talking with that Lady from the FBI, the one with the warm brown eyes and the gentle smile only minutes after he had been rescued, yet it seemed like a stupid dream because how could any of that had been real? He, vaguely, remembered answering her questions even though it had seemed impossible at the time. »Where am I?« He found himself asking despite how much his jaw hurt. He knew exactly where he was, though. He was inside some hospital, maybe even in the one his mother worked at in Lawrence, and that wasn't what he meant anyway. Then again, what did he mean? He couldn't tell it himself, but Sam, apparently could.

»You’re safe now.« Sam mumbled. »That's all that matters.« How much did Sam know? Did he know who his kidnapper was? Did he know in what big of a trouble Adam was? How could he say that he was safe if he knew? And how could Sam even look at him with so much love and relieve in his hazel eyes after the horrible things Adam had done? After he had been such an asshole to his big brother? After sending Dean to prison for his own crime?

»I killed Ruby.« The words just escaped him like that without giving them much thought or weighing them in his head first. His own mind didn't allow him to overthink this once more, not after such long a time of him lying and avoiding telling the truth to Sam. He didn't even care who else would know, to him it only mattered that Sam would know.  

There was silence first as Sam was unable to understand what his younger brother just told him, leading to a silent »What« that escaped from his lips at first, before he seemed to have caught himself again. »No, you didn't, Adam. Dean did.« His forehead was covered in confused wrinkles as he stared at Adam out of sleep-deprived eyes, with his head slightly tilted to the right, trying to make sense of what his little brother had just told him while still unwilling to even think about that in any way.

»No.« Adam replied quietly as he felt the burning sensation of tears threatening to spill behind his eyes. He was unable to stop them as they started to escape and run down his face. »No, Sammy!« He finally sobbed. »It was me! It was all me! I found her address in your phone after your overdose and I was … I didn't know what I was doing … I didn't know what I wanted from her when I went to her apartment! I just … I just went. I saw you at the hospital, almost dead, and I just went to her! I wanted to confront her about how she ruined our family, our lives! How she killed Dad! And she … She had no regret. She laughed and mocked me, told me how she chose you because she figured with you having a cop as a brother she would have it much easier getting out of trouble because Dean wouldn't want his colleagues to know that his brother is a junkie. She laughed as I told her about Dad, Sam! She didn't care that you almost died too! To her this was funny! And I … I just snapped ... I couldn't take it. I didn't know what I was doing … and then Dean came and he told me to go home, told me to shut up about it, told me he would make it all go away…«

Sam just continued staring at him with his mouth hanging open like a gaping fish, unable to process what his little brother had finally revealed to him, unable to accept it as a possible truth even. He seemed completely out of it for the longest time, before he finally blinked again. There was no anger in his eyes, however. There was no hatred directed at him right away. Sam just sat there, staring at him, processing what he had said before he got up from his chair sluggishly as if Adam had just hit him over the head badly. Almost he expected his brother to leave and never talk to him again, but Sam didn't leave the room. Instead, he started to pace as he was so prone to do when he was feeling agitated.

He believed him. Finally, he believed him and Adam, as this realization struck, didn't know what to feel about it.

Now that the truth was out, he should feel better, like a curse had been lifted, but he didn't. He still felt lost and helpless and like he was still sitting in this dark room. He was still afraid that Lucifer would open the door again to laugh in his face for believing his mind games.

He expected his brother to start yelling at him as he was pacing the room and ruffling his hands through his shaggy hair, but he didn't. The words he spoke next, however, sold Adam on the idea that this couldn't possibly be real. »I’m sorry, Adam.« He sounded choked up as he turned back to the bed to look at his little brother lying there. His voice was hoarse and broken around the edges. »It's all my fault that this happened. Had I never fallen for Ruby’s games … this mess would never have happened! Dad would still be alive, Dean wouldn't be in prison, you wouldn't have gotten kidnapped by this maniac!«

»No … Sammy…«

»I should be the one behind bars! It's all because of me! Because I, the great Sam Winchester, was so sure I would be above all of this, that I could control it all!« He grabbed and threw the first thing he could get his hands on out of fury, some random water bottle that had been put on one of the side tables of Adam’s room that was now thrown at the wall beneath the window. Thankfully it was a plastic bottle, otherwise there would have been shards flying everywhere now. »Why didn't you talk to me sooner, Adam? I could have … I could- Maybe I could have-«

»What, Sam? What would you have done? There is nothing you could have done!« Except telling the truth to the police, getting Dean out of prison and Adam thrown inside and knowing both his brothers, Adam knew that Sam would have never done something like this. That was the problem with them and everyone knew this. Family was their weakness and by protecting each other, they usually got themselves in bigger trouble each time.

»At least I could have tried something! At least I could have been there for you! At least I could have been there for Dean! At least I would have _known_ , Adam!«

»Oh, hey!« Another voice ripped them from their conversation and Adam’s blood froze immediately as he realized that someone might have heard his confession even, after all the door had been wide open this entire time. »Just as I thought as I heard your lovely voice ringing down the hallway, nothing’s changed in my absence.«

As both his and Sam’s head snapped towards the door to stare at the intruder, Adam didn't know who was more shocked to see none other than their big brother leaning in the door frame with that cocky little grin playing on his stubbly face that they had both missed so very dearly ever since their lives had fallen apart.

»Dean?« Sam was the first of them to breathe as if he too was now convinced that all of this had just been some nightmare or weird fever dream and that their big brother Dean could impossibly be here right now in this very moment.

Dean, on the other hand, only grinned wider and winked at them. »Did you miss me?«

 

**-End of Chapter 22-**


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have some family fluff for a change! I loved writing that chapter x3 I hope you like it too! <3

**Lawrence, Kansas**

Dean Winchester lay awake in bed for the fourth night in a row while he listened to the creaking sounds of the old wooden beams of the house he had grown up in. There were so many things to repair in the house and it seemed that he had started to notice them only now that he was back home. Before prison, he had failed to notice most of the things that needed to be done, except for the two creaking steps on the stairs leading up or the back door that sometimes jammed when it got cold outside. These days, however, it was as if everywhere he turned there was something big he had to take care of, as if the entire house would collapse on him any minute now.

It felt good to work on the house. Despite what anyone else might say. Dean didn't care if he would wake up anyone if he would climb out of bed in the middle of the night to fix something else inside the house. Well … Then again, there was no one he could wake up anyway. He was alone. Alone with a mountain of handiwork to do, alone inside a house that suddenly seemed way too big and quiet.

Ever since he was back home, he couldn't sleep. His version of falling asleep nowadays was usually passing out after a day of hard work on the house and a few beers on the couch in the living room, and he was disgusted by himself for turning into something that he had never thought possible. Maybe that was extreme, especially because Dean never had a problem with consuming alcohol before, but when he looked in the mirror these days, he started to look less and less like Dean Winchester, the role model his brothers had looked up to, the friendly neighborhood police officer who would help old ladies across the street, and more and more like the man his father used to be after his mother’s death. He loved his father with all his heart and he had always looked up to him but, frankly, he had never wanted to be like him at his lowest point in life.

It was odd. In jail, he had thought he would have no problem getting back on track afterward, that he would pick up the shards of his life, glue them back together and return to how things used to be. Now here he was, almost a month in and nothing was back to normal. He was without work, he was alone in this huge house, he was bored to death for the most part, and he seemed to have lost all friends he had ever had. Even the neighbors would look at him with furrowed brows and change the side of the street when he would walk towards them or quickly brush him off to walk away when he would try making small talk. He had thought being able to go back to his home and not being sent God knows where by the Witness Protection Program would be a blessing, but he started to see that this had been naive. Everyone thought he was a murderer and he was fine with it. He had them rather think that he was a killer than Adam. His brother had it bad enough already.

And now here he was, tossing and turning in his old bed inside the room he had grown up in. There were still posters hanging neatly framed on the walls from various western movies or rock bands, his old guitar that he had never used fastened above the headboards of his bed on the flakey white painted wall, a dent in the floorboards near his old desk where he had once dropped one of his heavier trophies which were neatly put in a display cabinet to the left side of his desk. It was neither a teenager’s nor an adult’s bedroom, but it was his and he loved it. Although … everything in here seemed unfamiliar to him all of the sudden, as if he wouldn't belong here anymore, as if this was the room of someone entirely different. _Because you are not the same person anymore_ , as a helpful little voice inside his mind was eager to point out. It was true, right? It almost felt as if he had lost his childhood innocent when he came back from prison as if only now he was able to see the world how it truly was.

As he sat up with a frustrated groan and swung his naked legs over the edge of the bed, he thought about Castiel and how the angel was faring these days. They lost all contact ever since they had been separated by the FBI before the Pellegrino trial and put into protective custody. At least he had been allowed to see his family beforehand but he didn't know if Castiel had had the same amount of luck. He did have his number, at least but there had been no sign of life from Castiel's part and so Dean had assumed that he might not be interested. Maybe it was better this way too. Prison was behind them and now they could move on from it and from each other.

And yet, Dean couldn't deny that his thoughts kept returning to Castiel again and again up to the point when even Sam would notice it, during the rare times his little brother came to visit him out here. Maybe Castiel had already left the country. Maybe he had changed his mind, grabbed his children and agreed to the witness protection after all. Maybe he should have gone somewhere else instead too. Maybe he should sell the house and move on, start fresh somewhere else without all this ballast weighing him down.

However, as he was walking through the house and down the hallway, passing by all those old photos of their family, he just couldn't think of living anywhere but here. He was envious of Sam and Adam. They were both so much more free and independent than he was. They had not the same abandonment issues that Dean had. He clung to those memories, he clung to his old home and to his brothers and all his old stuff like his life would depend on it, unable to let go and start fresh somewhere else. He would forever stay this guy in the movies that would turn up to his high school reunion decades later and still be at the same point in his life as when school ended, trying to cling desperately to the fame of his high school time when he had been _someone_. These days he was unable to even pick up the phone and call the man he had shared a cell with. Maybe though it was good that he didn't call Castiel. Calling Castiel would mean clinging to something from his past instead of moving on and he could not add to this pile of things he wasn’t able to let go any further.

However, feelings were not easy to just shake off and there was no way of denying that he had indeed strong feelings for this man. At least he thought he had. It was impossible to say if they would still hold strong out here, far away from barred-up windows and cold cells. Needless to say, there was no one who could advise him what to do because he had told no one about Castiel - not in this way, at least. To Sam and Adam, Castiel was the friend Dean had found in prison who had helped him through all of this and was a part of this whole story. They knew about Castiel's involvement with the Pellegrinos, they knew everything. Almost everything. The details he had kept to himself, of course. He wasn't even afraid how his brothers might react to him liking a guy like this, no, that wasn't the problem. But how would they react to him liking a man who was a part of the family who had kidnapped and almost killed Adam?

It would be better he would forget about Cas and move on.

Yet, in especially lonely and dark nights like this, he felt his thoughts drawn back to Castiel and to how they shared a bed whenever they could. He missed having him beside him, being able to feel his warm body in bed with him, to rest his chin on his shoulder or to trace his feathers with his fingers. »Get a grip, Winchester. There’s nothing you can do about it now.« He scolded himself before he paused in front of his parents' wedding photo. All his life he had been certain he would have that. All his life he had been certain he would find a girl he could love as much as his father had loved his mother, settle down, have a bunch of children, and just be happy. Now, happiness seemed far out of reach for him.  

When he had still been in jail, Dean had fantasized about how it would be to be back in freedom. He had thought about how he would see his brothers again every day because they would move back in with him or drop by every day, that they would just go back to how things were supposed to be. It was nothing like that, though.

After Adam got out of the hospital, Katie had been unwilling to let him out of her sights for the most part. She didn't want her son to move back in with his brother and Sammy … He had decided to prolong his stay at the Valley Hope and dropped by only rarely. The only person, Dean saw every other day, was Bobby. But, no matter how much he enjoyed having Bobby around and even help with the house, Dean still felt lonely and almost a little forgotten by his family. It was petty for him to feel like this, but he still did, almost as if he had lost his place in the universe.

»Drinking already?« A voice ripped him from his darkening thoughts later that day as Dean found himself sitting on a self-made scaffold with his legs dangling down from it, a can of blue paint to his side, a paintbrush in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other.

»It's twelve o’clock somewhere!« Dean replied without even looking who was trying to piss him off this early in the day.

»Do I get one too?« Only that prompted Dean to look down to find Adam in front of the scaffold, his bike in hands before he lay it down on the front lawn, walking up to the scaffold.

»In your dreams!« He heard himself scoff before he put down his beer and lowered the paintbrush on the lid of the paint can. Never into the can itself, as his father had warned him. That was one of the seven deadly sins when it came to home improvement, followed only by not checking if the power was shut off before doing anything with electricity around the house. »What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in school?«

»It's Saturday!« Adam laughed before making a move on climbing the scaffold to join his big brother up there. »Are you going senile already? A bit early, don’t you think? You only turned twenty-eight not eighty-eight, I believe.«

»Just you wait until you're my age, Munchkin, then we're talking again.« Dean scoffed as Adam reached the top of the scaffold and sat down beside him though he couldn’t quite mask his uneasiness. Adam had never been comfortable with heights. As he looked at him now, Dean was just glad that his brother had recovered so well from all this crap he had gone through at the beginning of the year. He had left the hospital just in time for Valentine's Day with just a few scars and although that wouldn’t have been a huge deal normally, to Adam this year it had counted. »How's Angelica?« Dean smirked. »And why aren’t you with her today? It’s a nice day, you should spend it with her and not your grouchy old brother.«

A blush crept into Adam's cheek as his brother asked about his new girlfriend but he tried to play it cool as he rolled his eyes. Teenagers, Dean thought. To be sixteen again! Then again … no, he could do without hormones and pimples and not having control over his dick, thank you very much. »She's out with her girlfriends today on a shopping spree.«

»So this is a mercy visit because you have nothing better to do?« He mocked, although, yes, a part of him felt this way. His brothers had made themselves rare these days and though he couldn’t quite blame Adam, a part of him still did and he hated himself for thinking like this. Still, he had gone to prison for Adam, everyone thought he was a killer, he had been raped and humiliated and almost killed in there and yet his baby brother couldn’t spare a bit more time for him. But Dean wouldn’t be Dean would he allow those thoughts to settle in. His brothers didn’t know about the things he had experienced in jail and he preferred it this way.

»No.« Adam huffed and gently nudged his shoulder. »I told her first that I wanted to spend the day with you and she understood.«

»I'm afraid I'm not as much fun to be around as your girlfriend would be.«

»So nothing new there.« Adam grinned sheepishly. »What are you doing anyway?«

»Painting the façade, isn’t that obvious?« Dean nodded over his shoulder where he had started to paint the façade at the highest point, working his way down as his father had taught him to. _Never start from the bottom, Boy, you'll ruin your work with running paint otherwise._ »Dad and I wanted to do it last year, actually. I remember bugging him about it. I wanted it done in time for your birthday.«

»And why is that?« Adam blinked in surprise at him as this confession, his blue eyes glimmering in the sunlight.

»Because you turned sixteen and we wanted to throw you a big party with barbecue and a bouncy castle!« He laughed, although he was still sappy that he had missed his baby brother’s sixteenth birthday. No … He hadn't, just missed it, he had ruined it. Dean had already been in pre-trial confinement at this time and his family had other things on their mind than Adam’s birthday.

»And what had the façade to do with that?«

»I wanted it to be perfect.« Dean shrugged. »I mean, growing up, we only did what was necessary around the house because money was running short and that only changed after I finished training, you know? I wanted the house to look nice and be in order when you would bring all your friends from school over to celebrate.«

»You are such a soccer mum.« Adam smirked as he bumped his shoulder into Dean’s and drew out a breathy laugh from his older brother like this. They were not like Sam, overly eager to share their feelings and cry into each other's shoulders, but the sentiment was clear. Dean understood Adam without many words and he could feel that his baby brother was moved to hear about Dean's plans and about how much thought he had put into all of this back before everything had fallen apart. They were very much alike, both annoyingly sarcastic and hot-headed, both excruciatingly caring when it came to the people they loved.

»Tell me something new.« Dean scoffed before, with a sigh, he pulled out another beer from the small cooler box that he had placed beside him and offered it to his brother. Adam looked at him with big owlish eyes. He still looked pale these days which prompted the freckles they shared to stand out even more and Dean knew that though he had told Sammy the truth, he was still haunted by it.

»I thought…« Adam began but Dean rolled his eyes and nudged the beer against Adam’s hand impatiently.

»Take it before I change my mind.« He threatened and his little brother was all too eager to comply, grabbing the cold bottle and opening it slowly, his eyes never leaving his brother’s face as if he was concerned Dean might slap the beer out of his hand after all. »I figured, since Dad isn’t around anymore, it’s my job to give you your first beer, right? But don’t tell anyone. Especially not Sammy.«

»Wouldn’t Mom be worse?«

»God no. Your mom is cool. Sammy … We would never get to hear the end of it.« They clinked their bottles together after Dean had picked up his own again and both took a sip. The grimace his brother pulled didn’t escape him, of course, but he decided not to comment on it and just enjoyed the warm sunlight shining on his face. It was only April, but the spring and summer already promised to be awesome. »I mean, I was pretty adamant that he would not get to have a beer before he at least turned eighteen back in the day. I actually argued with Dad about this a lot. He would kill me would he know I gave you one already.«

»Then why did you?«

Dean grew silent for a moment and shrugged his shoulders. »I don’t know. Figured, it couldn’t hurt. Maybe I’m growing softer with the years, learning to let my baby walk without me a little earlier this time.« But that was not the real reason and they both knew it. »Maybe I saw Sam's tendencies back then already and feared what would happen would he get introduced to alcohol this early.«

»What do you mean?«

»I mean, Adam« He started and stopped himself before shaking his head with a sigh and a soft chuckle. It was time to be honest, he supposed. Adam deserved honesty. »I mean, that he is very much like dad in that regard. He's an addict, Adam, and Dad was one too. Dad's drug of choice was whiskey and not heroin, though. However, it’s the same tendency they both share. They don’t know when to stop. I think I already saw it coming back when Sammy was sixteen, you know? And I didn’t want alcohol in the house anyway. I always feared Dad might relapse if there would be a beer in the fridge. You are too young to remember it because he was already clean when you were born, but I … I saw him like that, you know? Even Sammy doesn’t really remember Dad like that … the _bad_ Dad, the _drunk_ Dad. He doesn’t remember how he was or how he screamed and yelled and threatened and scared us – me, I should say. When he got sober and started his program with the AA and Bobby's help, I was glad, sure, but ever since then … I don’t know, I think I just always waited for the other shoe to drop, you know?«

»Was Dad really that bad?«

»He sure was.« Dean sighed and brushed a hand through his hair. »I mean … I was only a child myself, so what do I know, but … He was damn scary when he got drunk. He sometimes got so bad that he punched holes in the walls. He would pass out on the sofa and not get up until the next afternoon and I was sometimes so afraid that he had died that I called Bobby to look if he was still breathing because I didn’t dare get close to him when he was like that.«

»Did he … I mean … Was he ever violent?« Adam asked carefully and yet he sounded more afraid of the answer than anything else. Or was he afraid that Dean might get angry because of a question like that? He had always envied his brothers naivete when it came to their father for they had never needed to see him like Dean had seen him. To both of them, thinking of their dad anyway else but how they had known him, was surely ridiculous.

Dean paused again before he took another sip from his beer and slumped his shoulders in defeat. His brother deserved honesty and though he didn’t wish to ruin the image he had of their dad, he deserved the truth. He deserved seeing their father as Dean had seen him, to see the real John Winchester and how bad he had been at times. »Sometimes, yeah.« Dean then sighed deeply before he pointed at the small scar under his chin which was now covered in stubbles anyway. »I got that scar from him, actually, threw me to the ground one time when I stood in his way and I hit my chin on the coffee table. Heck, I was bleeding all over the place, had to get stitches even - which in turn made him only angrier.«

Dean found himself pausing as he brushed his paint soiled fingers over the tiny scar. He remembered that day as if it had been just yesterday that it happened. He remembered the pain and the confusion and his father yelling, Sammy screaming … He had forgiven his father a long time ago, yet the memory was still with him.

»Most of the times, when he started to go into a frenzy, I grabbed Sammy and hid in the basement or inside the scary closet in Sam's room. I tried to stay out of his way but I couldn’t always do it. He was never like those assholes you see on TV, though. He never just attacked without reason. He screamed at me for the most part, but sometimes I would come home dirty, not expecting him to be there and he would lose his shit. It wasn’t too bad, though. It was no more than a slap or a spanking that would leave me more startled than actually hurt. But I think the worst time was when I got so afraid of him and his screaming that I actually peed my pants. I mean … I was five or six at the most and violently ill anyway! Jeez, no reason to flip out like that after you scared a child witless just for knocking over a cup accidentally, but Dad … Dad did flip out on me. He actually beat me that night, and I mean he beat me up real bad that night. Although there was one good thing to it because that was the night when he realized that he needed help. I think, sometimes you need to hit rock bottom to see that you need help and that night … that was rock bottom for Dad. He loved us, Adam. Always. Even then, even drunk. Right after he realized what he had done to me, he dropped everything, called Bobby to come over and take us and just left. Hell … When Bobby arrived to pick us up he was furious as he saw me. I was all bloody and afraid and in pain. He took us home with him and cared for us and I was certain that Dad had left us, that he would never come home. I was certain that it was all my fault too.«

»But he came back.« Adam mumbled quietly, his eyes on the bottle in his hands, his voice sounding all choked-up at Dean’s story. He looked like he had the worst taste ever in his mouth and certainly not because of the beer.

»He came back, yes.« Dean found himself nodding and took another sip of his beer. »A month after that. After he had left the house he went to a friend of his, Pastor Jim, who had helped him out a lot in the past, and Pastor Jim brought him to a rehab center. He actually even paid for Dad's stay there because Dad didn’t have the money for it. And when he came back, he was better, sober and more like the Dad I knew from when Mom was alive, but he was still bad, you know? He was still angry at the world, he was still depressed and sad and now without a job because his boss had heard what had happened and that he was an alcoholic and kicked him out. I thought it was the end of the world. But Bobby helped us. He and Dad opened their car repair shop a year later and after that, everything started to look up again for the Winchesters.«

Slowly Adam put his beer to the side as if he couldn’t bring himself to even take another sip again. »I never knew Dad was like that…«

»And for a good reason.« Dean wrapped his left arm around his brother’s shoulders without taking no for an answer. »Dad overcame his demons back then and after that, he was stronger. I never wanted to tell you, but I think you deserve to know that Dad was only human too, just like me. We all make mistakes, we are all flawed and no one is perfect, no one goes through life without struggling at one point. I want you to always remember this and remember Dad how you knew him. Don’t let this part of his story taint his memory because it wouldn’t be fair. This was between me and him and I forgave him a long, long time ago. And now get off your lazy bum and help me paint the façade.«

It was later that same day when Dean found himself sitting on the front porch of the house with another beer in his hands. Night had fallen an hour ago and Adam had left before the sun went down, leaving only uneasiness to settle in Dean’s stomach as he saw his brother ride off on his bike. It had been a good day and Dean wasn’t entirely sure who had needed it more, him or Adam. He was tired as he sat on the porch and watched the silent neighborhood like he always used to, hanging after his own dull thoughts that were pleasantly quiet tonight. A day of hard work would do this to anyone and at least they had managed to get the entire façade done today.  

And yet, now that he was alone again, sitting here like this with his beer in hand, the memories came back and with them the feeling of being utterly lost. He pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and looked down on the screen. No messages from anyone. Well, what did he expect? Sitting there, his face illuminated by the gleam of the screen of his phone, he started rummaging through the photos he had taken on it. Most were of nonsense stuff he had come across or of his family from last year. The last one he had taken, was actually of Castiel. It was certainly not the most flattering picture with Castiel sitting in the backseat of some car, his head leaning against the window, fast asleep and his mouth hanging open in a silent snore, but it was the only one he had been able to take without Castiel bitching or before they had been separated. Back when he took it he had promised himself that he would make a better one if he would ever get the chance, now it seemed that this was the way Castiel would remain in his memory.

»You should call him.« What was it with today and people sneaking up on him while he was lost in thoughts? It seemed as if his brothers would have only waited for a day on which they could do just that. Maybe they had planned this. As he looked up, he wasn’t surprised to see Sammy walking down the pebblestone path towards him. He was surprised to see the large duffel bag hanging from his right shoulder, though.

»I don’t know what you mean.« Dean was quick to answer before Sam reached him, dropped his bag carelessly and slumped down beside Dean on the steps, forcing his big brother to squeeze a little closer to the railing with his gigantic body.

»Sure you don’t.« Sam scoffed and snatched the phone from Dean’s fingers before he even knew what was happening. Stupid alcohol making him all slow and shit. »Nice picture. So that’s him, huh? That’s the mysterious Castiel you were so eager not to talk about.«

»What's that’s supposed to mean?« He growled at his brother and didn't even try getting his phone back.

»Dean, really. I know you long enough to see when you are pining for someone.«

»I'm not _pining_ for anyone. He's a guy, Sam. He's a friend. A guy friend.«

»So what?« Sam huffed a small laugh before grabbing the bottle from Dean's hands too and taking a sip. »You are allowed to pine for a guy if you want to, I don’t care. Adam doesn’t care. No one cares.«

»Are you implying that I'm gay?« He tried to sound affronted, but that was hard with the memories of being fucked stupid by another guy still always on his mind.

»I'm implying nothing.« He rolled his eyes. »But it's obvious that you miss him. You didn’t stop talking about him for the first few days and then you just stopped and refused to answer when anyone asked about the dude. Dean, if you like another guy … that’s okay. He sounds like a cool dude, as far as I could tell and, hell! He went against his family. He risked his life for you, didn’t he?«

»No, he didn’t. He risked his life to be with his kids.«

»And for you!« Sam was adamant. »If all of the things you told me about your time in prison is true then … Dean … He did this for you! He helped you and with his and his brother’s help we got back Adam before this lunatic could kill him while I was sitting here uselessly cooking coffee and providing hot soup and sandwiches for the people who were searching the woods.«

»You did what you could do, Sammy, there's nothing wrong with that.«

»It will never be enough.« They weren't talking about the search for Adam anymore or about Castiel and Dean could feel that quite clearly. This was about everything else. This was about the drugs, about Ruby, about their father, about Adam, about him.

»But it is what it is.« He sighed and ruffled through Sam's nightmare of a hairstyle before reclaiming his bottle. There was a moment of silence between the brothers before Dean found it in himself to talk again. »So … what brings you here? And what's up with the bag? Did Sonny kick you out because your hair clogged the shower too much, you hairy-hairy moose?«

Sam bit back a laugh. »No, I left. I thought it was time. Time to remove the training wheels, you know? And I … My dorm room is no longer available and I … I thought, if you don’t mind, I could … I'll search for another place, of course, but for the time being…«

»You are welcome to move back in, Bitch.« This time Sam did let out a small relieved laugh as he looked at Dean again. He could see the moisture glisten in Sam's eyes thanks to the shine from the phone screen that Sam still had in his paws. There was no way of escaping this chick-flick moment and Dean knew it. When Sam would throw his puppy eyes at him like this, he knew the inevitable would struck and he could only brace for impact before Sammy could throw his ridiculously long arms around him like a golden retriever who wanted a hug from his tiny master. Dean was the one who pulled Sam into a hug this time - call it self-preservation - grabbing him by the neck and pulling him awkwardly down to his level as they sat here in silence on those steps. Like always he felts Sam's fingertips digging into his back as his little brother pressed his body against his, almost crushing Dean in the process. Some things never changed.

»I'm glad you're back, Jerk.« Sam huffed against his neck before he pulled away again and quickly rubbed a hand over his stupid face as if he would be able to hide the tears streaming down his cheeks this way. »What are you going to do now?«

Well, that was a good question. »Let's see…« He began with a groan. »Today I painted the façade new. I still need to fix the creaking steps and the dent in my floor. I thought about refurbishing the kitchen too.«

»You know what I mean.«

»Of course, I know, I just decided to ignore it.« He sighed. »I don’t know, Sam, okay? I don’t know what I'm going to do. Everything I ever wanted was to be a police officer, to be the good guy. But let's face it, that dream is broken and there is no going back now. I did too many things that a good guy would never do and the police force will never take me back anyway. So, I think I gotta move on.«

»You could ask Bobby, you know?«

»What do you mean?«

»Well, you're awesome with cars, just look at the Impala. That was you, not Dad. Maybe you can work for him until you found something else.« It was an idea, one that put his brain to work again as Sam rose from his spot and grabbed his duffel to head inside. Only as he was already at the door he threw Dean’s phone back at him. »He looks nice. Call him.«

Dean just scoffed at that and watched Sam walk inside the house. All of this seemed so natural that I was hard to remember that it wasn’t all that natural, that they were not back when everything had been nice and dandy, that there was still so much anger going around in this family. But, for now, Dean was fine with ignoring all that.

He emptied his beer and rose to his feet before pausing and throwing another glance at his phone. »Oh fuck it.« He sighed. Sam and his fucking girly bullshit! He blamed his brother and the alcohol, as he unlocked the phone again, went to his contacts and picked out Castiel. His finger hovered over the call button for a moment, but then he opened a new text message instead. He didn’t even know what to write. First, he wrote 'How are you?' then deleted it and tried again with 'Is everything alright?', repeating that same motion there were numerous other questions like 'You still alive?', or 'How are the kids?', but in the end, he settled for 'I miss you' before he hit the send-button quickly, and shoved his phone back into the back pocket of his jeans.

He didn’t expect an answer as he walked into the house and closed the door behind him. Upstairs he could hear Sammy rummaging through his old room and found himself leaning against the door with his back, listening to the house and the noise, finally feeling at home again. Only the buzzing of his phone made him flinch and break his stupor. There was one new message, as he pulled the phone out of his back pocket and for once Dean was glad that he was standing in a dark hallway alone so that no one could see the stupid grin that started to spread over his face as he read the message.

»I miss you too.«

 

**-End of Chapter 23-**


	24. Chapter 24

**Pontiac, Illinois**

He would have expected the weather to be bad. He would have expected the heavens to weep. He would have expected the sky to be of a steely heavy grey hanging above his head. Instead, the sun was shining brightly down on the green grasses of the graveyard and no cloud tainted the clear blue sky. It was a truly beautiful day with the beautiful flowers that had been put down on the freshly closed grave gently swaying in a soft spring breeze.

As he stood by the side of the grave alone, he didn’t quite know what to feel or think. He was glad that he had a little time for himself at the graveside as the rest of the funeral party had already left a few minutes ago, leaving Castiel to his thoughts. He didn’t know any of these people, except for Amelia's best friend, Jane, but even she didn’t know how to behave around him. He couldn’t blame her or any of the other people. It wasn’t long that he had been released from prison, if anyone would want to call it that even, and he hadn’t had even two months in freedom yet. It was mid-April, spring had just begun, the year was still new and fresh and the spring breeze promised of new and exciting things to come. Yet, Castiel wouldn’t lie, he felt lost. Utterly and hopelessly lost.

Ever since the FBI had taken down what had remained of his family and their acquaintances, he didn’t know what to do or where to turn. He had spent five years behind bars and somehow now that he was free again, he yearned for being behind bars again. How was this even possible? Inside of the prison he had been alone too, but it had been different. Then again … He wasn’t really alone, was he? Maybe that was worse. There were now two tiny people who looked at him for guidance, although it was true, that they still seemed a bit uncertain of him after they just met him and were still getting to know him, all the while Castiel felt as if he wouldn't even know himself.

With a sigh, Castiel sat down in the grass beside the freshly dug grave cross-legged and buried his face in his hands. »I thought it would be easier.« He mumbled to himself. Almost, he could hear Amelia's snorting laughter right next to him.

※※※※※※※

Getting back on his feet and acquainted with the real world outside of the prison was rough and only one aspect of that was the fact that he got separated from Dean in the process when the young man went back to his family, leaving Castiel behind like a forgotten sock in the dryer. Of course, that was not at all how it had happened. They had spent a good amount of time together after they had been out of prison. First inside the safe house in the middle of the woods, then in the custody of the FBI for a little while longer until the trial had been over and the world a bit safer for them to walk around in it. Of course, this whole Pellegrino dilemma was still far from being over, but for now, Michael, Lucifer, and Raphael were behind bars and there was still no sign of Gabriel, although the manhunt for his older brother was in full swing and the news filled with the drama around the Pellegrino trial. It had taken Castiel a lot of time and effort to convince the FBI that Gabriel didn’t mean harm to him or anyone else and that his older brother was probably glad that all of this was finally over too. Knowing Gabriel, he was probably in Mexico, mixing Margaritas or lying in the sun to live comfortable for the rest of his life because that was just who Gabriel was. Somehow, he always came out victorious on the other end, while Gadreel was probably having it a lot rougher somewhere where it was cold. Maybe they had sent him to New Zealand to work as a shepherd or something along those lines while the news outlets were proclaiming it as a historic win for the FBI and the justice system of America as a whole.

Even on this beautiful sunny day in March, as he found himself sitting on a bench in some random park while the sun was shining down brightly on him with no cloud to be seen on the azure blue sky, the thought that he was free of his family, still didn’t register in his brain. Not even in the moment as Agent Mills arrived at the scene and slowly sat down beside him, watching the other people around them with attentive eyes for just a moment, before she handed him a briefcase, of which he knew contained his new documents, with a small smile playing on her face, he couldn't believe it.

»There you go, Dr. Novak.« It was odd being referred to as Dr. Novak or Mr. Novak. He had been a Pellegrino all his life, even though he had liked to use his mother's name and had been sent to prison under this name too. Needless to say, that he had been in prison as Castiel Novak Pellegrino had been just something his brothers had arranged back then, as if to get a divide between him and them, making sure the world would know that though, yes, he was a Pellegrino, he was only one of the lesser family members just like Gadreel and Balthazar, just another foul apple in the basket.

Now, however, he was stripped of this name for real. It was gone from his documents, gone from everything that concerned him. Castiel Pellegrino was dead and buried and though he couldn’t be happier about that fact, he felt lost. Now what? As if Agent Mills could read his mind she picked up the question that was circling around in his head like a disco ball. »What are you going to do now?« She smiled. »Are you going back to becoming a heart-surgeon?«

»No.« The answer came instinctive and without giving it much thought. It still held true, though. He couldn’t even think about getting back into the hospital to continue as if nothing had happened. »No … I can't. I … I don’t know what I'm going to do.« That wasn’t true, though. »I think I'm going to go meet my children. And then … I don’t know. When Amelia dies, her friend will get custody of them and then … I don’t think I will see them much.« Because who in their right mind would allow someone like him to meet his children?

»You could take custody of them.« Agent Mills gently proposed with a pleasant smile and though the idea was not new to him, it was still an overwhelming thought to have. Dean and he had talked about him getting custody of his own children quite a lot during their time at the safe house too, actually, and he knew that if he were Dean, he wouldn't hesitate one second to act.

»I don’t know.« He sighed. Yes, he wanted his children with him. He wanted to be a good father to them and to give them everything that he never had. He wanted to give them a loving home and a stable life and yet, would he be the right person to do all this? They didn’t even know him. What if they wouldn’t like him? »I don’t know if I'm the right person for such a huge challenge.«

Agent Mills laughed at this and clapped his shoulder. »Let me tell you one thing, Mr. Novak, as a mother, not as an FBI Agent: The simple fact that you are able to recognize this task as _a huge challenge_ , says that you are exactly the right person to deal with it.«

»That doesn’t make any sense.«

»Yes, it does.« She smirked but didn’t offer any further explanation to her claim as she shook his hand, turned around and just left him sitting there in the middle of the park like a complete idiot while around him people were walking their dogs and children running around engulfed in their little games. Castiel found himself watching for a moment from his spot on the bench he had occupied with Agent Mills before. All this vibrant life and hope around him … It was too much after all this time in darkness. However, he had made his decision and so he rose to his feet, squeezed the briefcase with his new documents under his left arm and pulled his beige trenchcoat tighter around himself, suddenly shivering from a cold breeze, straightened out his dark blue tie and his dark suit, before he started walking. A part of him just wanted to call Dean and hear his voice again, but then he shook off this sentiment. Before he could do that, there were other things he had to take care of, as much as it troubled him.

He arrived in Pontiac, Illinois, two days later. The ride had been more exhausting than he cared to admit. He had pulled over and slept in his car when he got too tired, but pulled through the rest of the way without too many breaks, getting farther and farther away from Kansas and thus away from Dean and his previous life as it seemed.

He knew that he had not much time left and the little time he did have, he wanted to use wisely. So, when he pulled into the parking lot of the OSF Saint James - John W. Albrecht Medical Center, he was determined to go through with his plan as he checked himself in the rearview mirror of his car and combed his fingers through his ruffled hair. He had stubbles all around his jaw and he looked tired. Well, there was nothing he could do about that, though. He probably didn’t smell too good either, he assumed as he got out of the car and grabbed his trench coat from the passenger's seat, together with a bouquet of white roses that he had picked up after he entered town an hour ago, remembering how Amelia had once told him how she loved white roses the most.

Walking through a hospital was always a scary thing when he wasn’t the one working there. Being inside the hospital had been something normal for him five years ago and he had never been too aware of the smells other people complained about on a regular basis. Now, however, after he asked for direction at the front desk, he smelled what everyone else smelled. He smelled the strong stench of disinfectant and death and sickness and that only grew worse as he walked into the cancer treatment center on the third floor of the building. He hated every second he had to spend inside this ward and rather wanted to run out screaming than anything else. It all reminded him too much of the last days in the life of his father. It reminded him too much of how he stood by his bedside clutching his hand and asking for advice that he never got and how his older brothers had shoved him out of the way at any given moment. He had hardly been allowed to see his father before his death. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe he should be glad that he hadn’t needed to see him rot away slowly and painfully, forgetting his children's names and throwing tantrums like a toddler.

As he reached the door he was looking for, he felt his chest tighten. What if she wasn’t alone? Would he open the door and be confronted with his children sitting at their mother's bedside? He paused in front of the door and listening quietly to the sounds from inside the room. He could hear a TV silently running in the background but nothing else. So, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He didn’t expect an answer, yet he could hear a small and very silently sounding »Yes?« coming through the door before he turned the knob and opened it.

The reaction he got from Amelia was imminent. Had she been lying slumped in her bed before he opened the door, now she all but shot up with as much energy as if she had been electrocuted to sit up straight. »Castiel!« She breathed and her voice was thin as she did. She looked worse than she had as she had visited him. Her grey-ish skin was paper thin and he could see the veins through it clearly. She was even thinner than before, nothing but a skeleton dressed in a bit of skin and flesh, her cheeks hollow and the dark circles under her eyes more prominent than ever before. It pained him to see her like this and yet the smile she said his name with could brighten up the entire room as he slowly walked over and closed the door behind him. »Castiel« She repeated his name like a silent prayer, as he scooted over and pulled a chair to her bedside. »Is this really you?« Her words came out as a breath as she slowly leaned back in her pillows just as he sat down, put the flowers on her nightstand table and grabbed one of her ice-cold hands.

»Yeah … Yeah, it's really me, Ames.« He smiled but it took him a lot of effort to do that even.

»But how is this possible?« The question in itself was simple enough, the answer, however, not at all. So, Castiel decided to tell her the entire story, to tell her everything and even if that would take a lot of time, he had decided that Amelia deserved to know everything because of the decision she would have to make today and of which she yet had to be informed. She had to know who Castiel was, she had to know every bit of darkness that he was carrying with him. »You look good.« She sighed a while after he was done telling his story, her eyes never leaving his face as he spoke and the same soft smile never faltering. She looked at him as if he had hung the sun and the moon in the sky and that frightened him to no end. »Very handsome, though you could use a shave and a nice long bath.« She continued with a chuckle. »This Dean Winchester is a very lucky man.«

»I don’t understand.« He said as he tilted his head to one side, staring at her in confusion. He had told her his life story and this was what she had to say? It was almost as if she wouldn't care about the things he had done.

»No … No, you never do.« Amelia replied again with a low hum before she took her hand out of Castiel's to brush her fingers over his left cheek instead, cupping his face gently. »But you are going to go after him, right?«

»No.«

»Don’t be stupid, Stupid.« She chuckled and finally drew a little grin from Castiel as it reminded him so much of the days they had shared once upon a time. Amelia had always been able to make fun of a situation while recognizing its seriousness all the same, even as he had broken her heart.

»Dean … He has his own life now and his own problems. I don’t wish to be a burden and I don’t wish to remind him of everything that happened. I don’t think that I would have the right to stay a part of his life after it was my family who threatened his brothers. It wouldn’t be right. Besides … What we had in prison … I don’t know if that translates well into the real world.« Prison was a whole different universe, with different rules to begin with. How would Dean Winchester in the real world ever be able to love someone as messed up as him? Who was he even? He was no longer a Pellegrino, no longer part of that family, but who was he now?

»You will never know if you don’t try.« She sighed. »Oh, Castiel … You were always so reluctant, always so careful not to make a wrong move. But life doesn’t work like this. You can do everything by the book and still end up with the short end of the stick. Look at me.« She laughed. »Although one could argue that I should have married you before getting pregnant. Well, then again, who would have thought it would happen straight away, right? Life is a gift, Castiel. Life is … wild and unpredictable. You can't plan out everything, you can't always make sure to make the right moves. Life will throw sticks and stones in your path and you will have to find a way to get around and get over them. That’s what life is all about. That’s the beauty in all of this, otherwise, we would all live the same boring lives and do the exact same things. We would be mindless drones without a soul. Don’t worry about what might happen if you try this with Dean, do it and let life take the reins for once. Just embrace the beauty of all of this and the possibility of failure and getting your heart broken. If not for yourself, do it for me.«

He paused for a moment there to gather his thoughts, unable to fully form a response at first. Of course, she was right, but that was not why he was here anyway. Still, she was right and that frightened him to no end. »Amelia … I know I have no right to ask you that but … Do you still love me?«

Only then she took her eyes off his face, if only for a moment as she leaned her head back in the pillow and looked at the ceiling, dropping her hand on the mattress. »You have every right to ask, Castiel.« She sighed. »Yes, I still do. I never stopped. I know that this is maybe ridiculous. We had only one night and a few dates. But it's true. I tried dating other men, but it was clear to me that I couldn’t get you out of my hand and I thought that, well, maybe I was never supposed to have you, but at least you gave me those two beautiful children.« Again, her eyes fell upon him as he began to fidget with his hands a little. »Why do you ask? Is everything alright?«

He huffed out a laugh at that. »Nothing is alright.« He whispered more to himself than her. »But I'm gonna make it.« Only as he drove a hand nervously through his hair he felt the true impact of what was about to happen. »I got you flowers.«

»I can see that. They are lovely.« She gave a pleasant smile at his words, clearly mocking him once more.

»I don’t have a ring, though.«

»What do you mean?« Now it was her turn to tilt her head in confusion.

»I mean … I came here … I wanted to ask you if you would still marry me, if I’d ask you.«

»But Cas-«

»No, I mean it, Ames. I know it must look like I'm pitying you, I know it must look like I'm doing this to be nice, but that’s not the point. I want to marry you because that’s what we should have done five years ago and because … because it would make everything right.« It wasn’t what she deserved. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t how he had envisioned asking someone to marry him. It was awkward and uncomfortable.

»You mean it would make everything easier.« She concluded and it was hard to say what she was feeling as she looked at him now. Was this regret clouding her eyes? Hurt? Hope maybe? »You want to take custody?«

»I want to take responsibility.« He sighed and drove a hand through his hair yet again.

»But you don’t love me.«

»I do.«

»But not in the same way that I love you.« She smirked, but her smile was bitter. »Not in the same way you love Dean Winchester.«  

»No.« He found himself admitting and his stomach turning. This was just awful. Everything about it was just awful. »But its love nonetheless.«

»Like a brother to his sister.«

He bit his tongue at the bitterness in her voice. »Like a father to the mother of his children. It's still love and it's still real, Ames. And I want to be there for our children now that I finally can. That’s why I told you all of this, that’s why I opened myself up to you, so that you would know who you are marrying if you decide to do it, so that you would know who you are leaving your children with when you’re gone. And I don’t do this just because it would be easier after your death to grab the kids and run off, but because I want us to be a family for the rest of the time you still have.«

»You are very cruel, Castiel.« Despite the bitterness dripping from her voice, her tone was still soft and her eyes scanning his features as Castiel could already feel himself crumbling under her scrutiny. He was like a lost little child running in circles, trying to find a way out of some labyrinth or a black hole he had managed to get sucked into. »And you are very selfish.« She added after another moment or two. »But I still accept.«

»You do?«

»I do. But only if you promise me one thing.«

»Anything.« Dread was already clouding his judgment at her words. He was afraid of the promise he would have to make. Did Amelia even knew how much power she held over him right in this moment? She could ask anything from him and he would do it. She could even ask him to never see Dean again or never seek love again and he would keep his word.

»When I'm dead, and I will be dead soon, you are not playing it safe anymore. You are going to get me buried nicely and then you'll grab our children and go somewhere nice to start fresh. You be a good father to them. Let them be sad when they need to and let them know that it's okay to be sad. Always be honest to them. They are both so bright … You'll never be able to lie to them anyway.« She smiled at him, as she grabbed his hand once more to press lightly.

»I promise.«

»One more thing.«

»What is it?«

»When I'm dead, and everything is settled, you go to Dean and ask for a second chance.«

He met his children that same day. Them and the person they were currently living with, Amelia's friend, Jane. She seemed nice enough and yet she looked at him with a worried expression. It was clear that she wasn’t comfortable with him around. Castiel didn’t know what she really knew about him, but she probably knew that he had been behind bars these last five years. Then again, he frankly didn’t care what she thought about him or whether she liked him or not. He only cared for the two small children walking in with her.

Amelia had been right. They were beautiful and seeing them for the first time in person had him choked up right away, unable to fully grasp that he was the one who had created these tiny people. He still sat beside Amelia as Jane entered the room with the kids and as their eyes fell upon him immediately, both their mouths dropped. It was Claire, the little girl with the full blonde curls and the inquisitive blue eyes who spoke up first, her brother right beside her, standing slightly behind her in a way that reminded Castiel of him and Gadreel, as he had still been little and seeking refuge in his big brother’s shadow. »Mommy?« She asked. »Who is this man?« But just by the tone of her voice alone, Castiel knew that Claire already recognized him, just as Jack, whose eyes never left Castiel. His stare was actually a little unnerving.

»That’s your Daddy, Munchkin.« Amelia smiled gently. »He came to see us.«

»But you said he was in jail because he did something bad.« Claire immediately shot back, still reluctant to believe her eyes or her mother while behind her, her brother was fidgeting with the end of his tiny white button down shirt. He was equally as blonde as his twin sister and had the same set of eyes on him too, but he was a bit smaller and a bit on the thinner side, looking positively nervous and shy all the same.

»That’s true.« Castiel finally found his voice again before he got up slowly to move over to the twins, ignoring the woman beside them for just this moment. He was sure that she didn’t mind. Two steps before he could reach them, Castiel slowly crouched down again so that he wouldn’t tower over those kids as much. »I did something bad and I went to jail for it. But now I'm back out and I want to be with my family.« Maybe this was not the right way to talk to two four-year-olds, but Claire seemed to appreciate the honesty as she stared him directly in the eyes and scrunched up her brows.

»Your breath smells funny.« That was all it took for Castiel to crack and Jack, for once, seemed highly amused by his father's laugh at his sister’s words. Even Claire managed a small little grin at this.

»My apologies, I drove over from Kansas the last two days.« He said after he had collected himself enough and dragged a hand over his tired face. On TV shows there would be a hug and dramatic music, tears and sobs and wails coming from everyone around, but in reality, a reunion like this was much more awkward and silent, as Castiel realized. To those kids, he was a stranger. They had never seen him before except for the photos Amelia had shown them. How weird must it be for them to see him for the first time as a real person and not just some picture?

It was Jack who answered that question as he carefully stepped closer, outstretching a hand as if he was about to pet a wild beast, before gingerly touching his father's jaw and pulling back with a squeak. »Prickly!« He exclaimed excited and his entire face lit up as he did. Claire looked at her brother first, before repeating what he did and reacting the same way and then gingerly grabbing his hair instead.

»Hey … Your father isn’t an animal from the petting zoo you guys.« Jane huffed as Jack repeated his sister's action now that Castiel was holding perfectly still.

»I don’t mind.« He found himself smiling. His children, as it turned out, had absolutely no sense of personal space. They didn’t care if he would be uncomfortable while they were touching his face or ears, probing and prodding at him as if they had never seen another human being, all while Amelia watched over them with a soft smile. And it was true, he really didn’t mind because he understood why they did this, why they had to touch him. To them, he had always just been a photo but now he was really here and they had to make sure that this was indeed reality and not just some dream of theirs.

Once again, it was Jack who surprised him, and probably everyone else in the room, as he finally flung his short arms around his father's neck and pressed his little body against Castiel's chest. »I missed you so much.« He heard the little boy mumble as he gingerly closed his arms around his back and pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, resting his chin on the boy's head and closing his burning eyes for just this moment. Never in his life had he hoped the world might just stop turning so that the moment could remain like this forever.

»I missed you too.« He quietly muttered although to someone like Jane this must sound mad after they hadn’t known each other until today. And really, in the past, he might not have been able to understand it as well. How could you miss someone you don’t even know? Still, he had missed his children. He had missed not being there for them, not hearing their voices, not seeing their faces. »I always thought about you.« This was what got Claire on board as well, as it seemed as she gently moved in on him too, resting her forehead against his collarbone as he took one arm from around Jack and closed it around her too, squeezing them both as tightly as he possibly could without hurting them, as if he was afraid someone would take them away if he wouldn’t hold them close.

They had not even a full month together, the four of them, before Amelia died. She passed away peacefully in her sleep, two days after their wedding. The wedding itself had not been much and they had to have it at the hospital because she hadn’t been able to leave her bed anymore, but the priest came to her bedside and Castiel had even made an attempt at looking presentable with Claire's help as she had made sure that her dad would look his best. It had been a nice day filled with laughter, cake, and silly faces. They had taken as many photos as they could to forever keep that day in good memory.

First, Amelia hadn’t been sure about any of this, but it had been her friend, Jane, who had encouraged her with the perfect makeup and a nice looking wig. She had wanted to be beautiful on her wedding day despite the circumstances and she had been. To Castiel, it hadn’t mattered so much whether she wore makeup or a wig or not, but to her, it had meant the world and that was all that mattered in the end. The children were devastated as they got the news of Amelia's death after the night in which she had passed away. Castiel had remained at her bedside that night. They had talked until Amelia had fallen asleep and it had felt good and right the way everything had turned out. In the end, Amelia had died with a smile on her face and that was the important thing in this story. This was what he told his children too.

Knowing that she would die, Amelia had already made a list and prepared for her death long in advance. Her house was already sold and everything that belonged to her given to charity or to friends or kept as memorabilia for her kids. There wasn’t much to take care of for him anymore and Jane took most responsibility from him anyway. She was grieving her best friend and needed something to occupy her mind with so that she wouldn’t lash out at him, perhaps. She didn’t like him one bit. He knew that this was true by the way she acted around him and, frankly, he didn’t mind.

To his children, she was Aunt Jane and he respected her for that, or at least he tried to.

It was late in the night after the funeral that Castiel finally had time to sit down again and was able to get his head clear. He had promised Amelia to take the children and go as soon as all of this was over. But to go where? Back to Kansas? Back to Dean? Could he go to Dean even? He hadn’t heard a thing from the other man ever since they had been separated in early February. Perhaps Dean had already moved on and forgotten about him. Perhaps he was glad that he didn’t have to see him again any time soon.

»So what now?« It was Jane who found him outside on her front porch sitting on the steps leading up to her house. At least she had allowed him to stay tonight, close to his kids instead of the crappy motel he was currently living in. »Where are you going from here?«

She didn’t really care. She just wanted to know if he would take the children and leave come tomorrow. She loved those kids, or at least she acted like it and Castiel could respect her protectiveness over them. Then again, he was still not too sure about her motives in this regard. »I don’t know.« He replied quietly. »Maybe back to Kansas? I don’t know.«

»You know, I was quite surprised when she told me about your proposal and about the fact that you would marry and how quickly she was able to change all that paperwork in your favor.« Jane suddenly began leaning against one of the wooden columns that were supporting the porch roof. »After all, Amelia told me that you are gay years ago.«

»I am.« Castiel shrugged, already knowing what was coming and not really having the mind to deal with it now.

»So why did you marry her then? You didn’t have to. And it can't be because of the money, right? I mean, Ames didn’t have anything to pass on except for her jewelry and everything sentimental. So why bother?«

Jane wouldn’t be the only person who would continue asking him that. Dean would too, would he ever see him again and tell this story to him. »Because I loved her.« He replied and got back to his feet. He was a little taller than Jane and now that they both stood he towered over her, his eyes unflinching as he narrowed his gaze on her. »Not the way she would have wanted me to, that’s true, but I still did and it was the right thing to do.«

»It was the right thing to easily gain custody without going through court because you knew that she wanted to give me the custody over those children.« Her green eyes were hard and dripping with venom.

»True, that was one aspect. I'm free again and I want to be there for my children, Jane. I appreciate what you did for them and understand that you want to protect them. But I want the same thing so why does it bother you so much?« He finally had enough of her tedious nagging every time they got a chance to talk. »Or is it because you know that I promised Ames to support you the same way I supported her all these years? It’s the money, isn’t it?«

»I want you to leave.« Jane hissed and Castiel was sure that he had struck a nerve. Maybe Jane had never really thought about the money so much as she had thought about her friend and her children, but the change in her expression now told him that at least now she realized that the money aspect had contributed to her decision of wanting to raise those kids. She looked embarrassed more than she looked angry.

»I will, don’t worry. First thing tomorrow morning when my children are ready.« He kept his calm even as she had murder written in her eyes. There wasn’t really much Jane could do. She had promised the twins that their father would sleep on the couch downstairs tonight in case they needed him, and how should she explain that he wasn’t sleeping on the couch if one of them would wake up and search for him? She looked like she wanted to say something, but before she could, Castiel cut her off. »Good night, Jane.« He said before he turned towards the front door and crept back inside the house. Jane stayed where she was and Castiel was glad she did. He wasn’t in the mood to argue with her now.

With a deep sigh, he flopped down on the couch in the living room. They had held the wake here at Jane's house and there was still stuff to clean up but none of them could be bothered as it seemed. He sat in darkness for a little while until he heard the front door open and shut again, followed by footsteps walking down the hallway and then climbing the stairs. Castiel was just about to flop down on his back as the phone in the back pocket of his pants buzzed. Surprised he pulled it out. There really were only a handful people who had this number and one of them had just written him a message.

As he unlocked his screen and flipped open the message his heart dropped for a second before he felt his entire chest constrict again. »I miss you.« The text message read. Those tiny three words had such a huge impact on him that Castiel was unable to stop smiling as he read them over and over again as if the message might change and he would miss it. He hadn’t had much reason to smile today or during the last few days after Amelia's death. He had buried his thoughts of Dean under a mountain of duties and adventures with his children to occupy his mind and keep himself from thinking about Dean, sure that the other man was glad to be rid of him.

»I miss you too.« He typed back a few moments later, his thumb hovering over the send button before he finally pressed it down. For just a second, he had thought about ignoring the message, but then he had remembered the promise he had given to Amelia and was certain that if there was a Heaven, she would now smile down on him proudly.

 

**-End of Chapter 24-**


	25. Chapter 25

**Lawrence, Kansas**

It felt surreal sitting on a bench in some random playground he had last seen when Adam had been a kid. Adam had demanded to come here almost every weekend when he was little, as the playground wasn’t far from their home, and usually, it had been Dean who had been forced to go with him, Sammy always finding a way to worm his way out of the responsibility of taking care of his younger brother. It was a sunny day, this Saturday in late April and children were running around laughing and playing on the playground with their parents sitting around on the benches chatting or reading. It was still so odd to Dean that he was really here, waiting for the man he had last seen in February.

After they had started communicating via SMS a while ago, Dean had tried to figure out what he was feeling for Castiel and what he truly wanted. Needless to say, he was still no bit closer to the answer. It frustrated him to no end. He had never had much trouble figuring out what he wanted or needed or felt towards other people. When he had first met his last girlfriend, Lisa, almost one year before he went to jail, he had known how he felt for her immediately and he had not been afraid to show it to her or go after her either. Their relationship had ended before it really begun, though, after Lisa had accepted a job offering two towns away and since Dean had not been willing to follow her and leave his family, they had split up.

It had been a sensible decision, the adult thing to do, but it had hurt nonetheless. He couldn't say how much it might have hurt Lisa, of course, but he … Well, he had been heart-broken. There was no nicer way to say it. Maybe he should have gone with her. Maybe everything would have turned out differently then. Although, had he gone with her, there wouldn't have been anyone to find Sam in time and his brother might have died from his overdose and his father … He would have probably suffered a heart attack one way or the other at the news. They would still be here. Adam might still have killed Ruby out of grief and hatred and Dean would have still ended up in jail - or Adam would have and then he would have lost both his brothers and his father. No … It was better the way everything had turned out.

»Hello, Dean.« A shiver ran down his spine at the sound of the gravelly voice and only then he realized how much he had truly missed hearing this voice in the first place. They had only talked through SMS, never talked on the phone. He didn't know why. Maybe he had been scared that he would miss Cas even more would he hear his voice. Looking up, he was blinded by the bright sunlight for a second. Squeezing his eyes, the figure in front of him took shape. Castiel looked magnificent the way he stood there with the sun behind his back, dressed in a sharp looking black suit and a beige trenchcoat, his blue tie a little crooked the way he had bound it and his hair was just as tousled as it had been in jail. As their eyes locked, Castiel seemed uncertain of this whole situation - just as uncertain as he was, perhaps.

»You look good.« Dean found himself smirking and patted the seat beside him. Still, Castiel hesitated for a moment, looking over his shoulder towards the playing children, before sitting down next to Dean. The awkwardness of this whole situation was almost unbearable as it had time to settle in truly. He wanted to reach out to Cas, to touch him or kiss him or just be close, but they were, after all, on a public playground and he not yet sure what to feel or think. Maybe their relationship in jail and been nothing more than a fling and now that they were out it was over. It felt different being with Castiel now, even more different than it had felt when they were at the safehouse or at the FBI, as if they both didn't know how to behave around one another.

»You … too.« Castiel replied with a faint smirk ghosting over his face that drew a small chuckle from Dean before he let his eyes wander across the playground again. They had to look like an odd couple sitting here like this, two guys sitting on a bench at a playground filled with playing children. He noticed two blonde kids that he hadn't seen before since he was sitting here, playing on the swings, a girl and a boy. Cas’ kids, no doubt. He had seen them in photos, after all.

»Fuck, this is awkward.« Dean muttered and dragged his hand through his hair before straightening out his favorite red plaid shirt.

»It is.« At least Castiel could laugh about their situation and finally he relaxed enough to lean back and fold his hands in his lap. Dean couldn't help but notice the ring on his left ring finger as it glistened in the sunlight. It reminded him of how he used to wear his mother's wedding band for years.

»So … Amelia is dead?« Dean quietly asked. They hadn't talked about it yet. It hadn't seemed appropriate, but he could feel dread settle in the pit of his stomach at the sight of this ring on Castiel’s hand.

»Yes.« Castiel sighed and began fidgeting with his hands as if he had noticed Dean’s look at the ring, suddenly self-conscious of the fact that he was wearing it. »She died a little while ago. I just came back to Kansas with them. We found a flat not too far off, for the moment. I have enough money left for a mansion, but I don't know yet where to go from here. I want to find a job first. For that, I would first need to know what I want to do, though.«

»Same here…« Dean huffed. »I started renovating the house - mainly to occupy myself with something else than brooding. I still don't know what I want to do. Sam said I should start working with Bobby, like my dad.«

»You like cars.«

»I do.« He laughed. »I don't know … Maybe I should do it. Maybe we could upgrade the car repair shop too, make it bigger and more modern. I think I would actually like that, but I don't have the money to do that.« He shrugged his shoulders a little. »But what about you? Aren't you going back to becoming a heart-surgeon?«

»No … I don't think that I will ever be able to go back to surgery. But I like helping people and I want to do something good for them.« He couldn't blame him, not after the things Castiel told him about his past and about the way his brothers had treated him. Holding a scalpel would surely bring back all the bad memories and all the guilt that Castiel had been feeling for the crimes his brothers had forced him to commit.

»You’ll find your way.« Dean said just as there was a loud wailing coming from the playground, followed by the screech of a girl yelling for her father.

»Daddy!« It was, undoubtedly, Claire as she came running towards the bench with her long blonde hair bouncing with every step. She had her father's inquisitive cobalt blue eyes and Cas quickly jumped up, forgetting all about Dean for the second that his daughter needed him. Dean found himself rising just the same, suddenly alarmed by the little girl’s distress. »Daddy, Jackie is hurt!« Only for a second, Claire glanced at Dean now before her eyes drilled holes into her father’s eyes again.

After that, they rushed over to the crying boy by the swings. Apparently, he had fallen from his swing and scraped open his left knee and his hands - however in the world he had been able to do that, was beyond Dean, though. Dean didn't even think about why he was rushing over to the kid himself, it just seemed right to do so although it might be not his place to help, although Cas might not want him to meet his children. Castiel didn't say anything, though and he didn't seem bothered by it either, as he reached his son and crouched down next to him, his daughter always by his side and eager to console her brother while their father turned to look at Jack’s injuries.

Jack was a little smaller than his sister but looked otherwise just the same. The same bright blue eyes, the same honey blonde hair. Thick tears were running down his cheeks as Castiel inspected his wounds and cleaned them up carefully. »There you go … Look, not so bad, right?«

»It hurts!« Jack replied in a whine.

»If you’d like to have a proper look at it … I don't live far. We could just walk over to my place and patch him up.« Dean offered quietly close to Castiel's ear as he was leaning over his shoulder to have a look at Jack too. As Cas turned his face to look at him their noses almost touched. It seemed that they were almost too close and yet never close enough, although this was probably the wrong moment to think about stuff like that. Castiel nodded at his invitation into his house and scooped up his son on his arms with Jack holding onto him for dear life, his thin arms wrapped tightly around his neck and his face buried in Castiel's shoulder. Although they didn't know each other for long, there was no question that his children loved Castiel as if he had been there all their lives. After Jack got comfortable, Claire grabbed the lapels of Castiel’s coat and together they left the park.

Only as they were walking down the street did Dean grow aware of the way Claire looked at him every now and again, before demanding her father's attention again. »Daddy, who is your friend?« She inquired over her brother’s silent crying, her big blue eyes leaving her father only to be glued to Dean again. She was cute but her staring was just as unnerving as her father’s.

»That's Dean.« Castiel replied with a small smile at her as if that was all the explanation his daughter needed, and Dean just winked, causing the little girl to blush and snuggle closer to her father’s leg, forcing a smile from Dean in return.

»The one you told us about? Your friend from jail?« She said it so casually that Dean didn't quite know how to react to it. So the twins knew that their father had been in jail and now they knew that Dean had been there too. They didn't look bothered though.

»Yes.« Castiel chuckled and again Claire looked at him, her eyes remaining a bit longer on him this time as if she was trying to figure something out. »He looks nice.«

»I am nice.« Dean grinned as they were walking down the street accompanied by Jack’s sniffling and quiet sobs. The house wasn’t far from the park and as they reached it, Dean let the Novaks inside first, following them quietly and under the scrutinizing gaze of one of his neighbors from across the street who was just watering his front lawn - or rather drowning it.

While Castiel tended to Jack in the bathroom, Dean was alone with Claire in the living room, sitting awkwardly on his own couch under the gaze of the little girl as if he would be an intruder in his own home. »Is this your family?« Claire suddenly asked out of the blue and pointed to one of the photos standing on the coffee table in front of them. Dean had put the photo up there one evening before Sammy had moved back in with him and he had kept it there even after Adam had finally made his mother let him move back in with his brothers too. »

Yeah.« He smiled and grabbed the photo with Claire moving closer to him on the couch so that she could have a proper look. The photo was of their last fourth of July party together. The goal had been to have the perfect awkward family photo and they had succeeded much to the amusement of everyone who had been there. »That's my dad.« He pointed John Winchester out on the photo with a smile.

»Where is he?«

»He died last year.« Dean sighed and looked at Claire, realizing too late that this answer might make her sad. Claire, however, seemed calm and collected as she said: »Like my mommy.« It was quiet but not completely heartbroken the way she said it. She was too young to fully grasp what the concept of death meant yet, but she knew the pain of losing someone.

»Yes.« He replied silently and Claire moved even closer at this.

»Were you sad when he died?«

»Very.« He paused and looked at Claire again. »Were you sad when your mommy died?«

»Yes.« Somehow talking to her was a lot easier than he would have expected it to be. She seemed very collected for such a young girl. »I was very sad, but Daddy said that Mommy went to Heaven and that she’s watching over us, that she’s an angel now. Is your daddy an angel now too?«

Dean couldn't help the small smile ghosting over his face at this. It was not easy to imagine his father, the great John E. Winchester, as an angel with fluffy wings sitting on some cloud playing harp. »Yes, I think so.« He then smiled.

»And your mommy?«

»She went to Heaven when I was your age, you know?« That got her attention as she looked up at him again out of her clear blue orbs. »She was in an accident, my brother, Sammy« He pointed at Sam on the photo who was leaning with all his weight on their father’s shoulder. »was just a few months old when it happened. I was heartbroken back then, my father too. But he told me the same thing that your daddy told you, Claire, that my mommy went to Heaven to watch over us.«

»So it's true?«

»Yes, of course, it's true. Your dad wouldn't lie to you and my dad wouldn't have lied to me either.« Was he a bad person for saying these things? He doubted it that this would be the thing he would go to Hell for. Claire, at least, seemed content with his answer. Not happy, but contempt and that was more than enough at the moment. She had just lost her mother, the person who had been there since the day of her birth and had been thrust into a complete new situation with a father she hardly knew, far away from the home she had grown up in, trying to find her way together with her brother and her father who was, probably, struggling himself with this new role.

There were footsteps coming down the hallway seconds later before the situation between Claire and Dean could get awkward again and Castiel appeared with Jack in the doorway. Jack’s cheeks were still reddened from his tears, but he didn’t hold onto Castiel as tightly as before anymore, his fingers loosely grabbing at Castiel's dress shirt now and a dinosaur band-aid on his knee that Castiel had probably been carrying around in his pockets at all times. He was a wise man.

»All better now?« Dean smiled at Jack who nodded eagerly.

»Yes, all better.« Castiel smirked. »You are a lifesaver.« It didn’t escape him how Castiel let his gaze wander through the living room and trying not to look as if he was inspecting Dean's home all the same. He didn’t want to look like a nosy intruder while his children didn’t seem to have any restriction in this regard.

»So what now? Back to the park?« Jack shook his head a little and Dean's eyes moved to the clock over the fireplace. It was already late in the afternoon by now and his brothers would surely come back home soon. »You know … I didn’t get a chance to use the grill this year … How about we make a barbeque? I could call my brothers and tell them to go shopping for us.« Before Castiel could even voice his hesitation in this matter, his children had already overpowered him in this decision as they jumped in excitement.

It was much later that same day as Dean and Cas finally found the time to talk in solitude. The twins had fallen asleep on the couch inside the living room, his brothers were in their room upstairs and Bobby had left an hour ago and now, as Dean sat down beside Castiel on the back porch of the house and handed him a beer, everything was calm and quiet. »I can't apologize enough for my brothers. But now you know what I have to deal with every day.«

Castiel chuckled as he took the beer. He had gotten rid of his ridiculous trench coat and suit jacket somewhere throughout the day and his tie were even more crooked than before, his sleeves rolled up unevenly. »They are nice.« He smirked and gently nudged his leg against Dean's as they sat beside each other on the stairs of the back porch. Needless to say, his brothers had not left Castiel alone even for a second today, eager to question him and get to know the man that seemed so important to Dean. Dean, however, didn’t know how much Adam knew or suspected, but he had seen the looks Sam shot him throughout the day, nudging him in Castiel's direction every time he got the chance.

His brother had been quick to realize what was really going on quite early on after Dean had come back to his family, Adam, however, seemed oblivious still – or he was just not as nosy as Sam was and still didn’t seem to think that he had a right of pestering Dean after everything that happened. Adam was probably still blaming himself for putting Dean through Hell for a crime that his older brother didn't even commit. And Dean, shamefully, was all too eager not to tell his younger siblings about the crimes he had committed inside prison. Still, it was like Castiel had always told him: Prison was a whole other universe with a different set of rules and what Dean had done inside, he had done to survive and to be able to come back to his siblings. Dean still hadn’t talked about much what happened in jail, but sometimes, when he looked at Adam, he thought that he might know something but then the moment would pass every time and they wouldn’t talk about it.

»Yeah … They were proper angels, weren’t they?« He smirked. »I thought Sammy would push us into a closet and make us play seven minutes in Heaven so that he would get what he wanted.« It was a little odd that his younger brother seemed almost a little obsessed with getting Castiel and Dean together.

»Seven minutes in Heaven?« Castiel inquired with a frown and a tilt of his head.

»That’s some lame teenage party game … you force two people to go into a closet together and hope they start making out. Never quite understood it, but had a hell of a lot of fun with it growing up. Let me tell you, that closet in Brianna Tailor's house holds fond memories for me.« Castiel still stared at him questioningly but Dean just nudged his knee against Cas to return the gesture from before. There was still that feeling that they were unbearable close and yet never close enough. »Anyway … I thought we would never get a moment to talk.«

»I'm sorry. I would have organized a babysitter but since I'm new in town, I-«

»Oh no, no, no, no, Cas. Never apologize for your kids to me, okay? They are awesome and much less work than Sammy or Adam. Really, I liked playing the fool for them.« He didn't wish to sound like a possessive asshole to Castiel. He had always liked kids, always liked to be around kids and Claire and Jack were awesome in their own ways. In addition to that, if Castiel and he would want to become a thing again, Dean had to keep in mind that the kids were part of the deal. Back in the day, this thought might have frightened him a little, but now it didn't even bother him at all.

»They enjoyed that very much. You have a hand for kids.«

»I raised my brothers, after all.« He smirked softly and felt tempted to steal a kiss from Castiel, but instead, he chose to take a sip from his bottle.

»Being out of jail is strange.« Castiel finally hummed and Dean could only agree. He had been in jail for just a few months and Cas for five whole years, still, it was strange. »I still have a hard time … coping, finding my place, you know? And I have to take care of so much stuff now. Finding a kindergarten for the twins, or a preschool or … anything. Finding a new job, something I want to do, building a home … All of these things. I don’t know where to start.«

»So … instead of taking care of all of this, you decided it would be a good idea to hang out with me today?« Dean gently teased although there was still a bit of truth behind his words.

»I feel … grounded around you.« Castiel answered after a moment of hesitation before sipping on his own beer. »I feel like I can see things a bit more clearly when you are around.«

»I'm flattered.« He smirked and couldn’t quite place the shift in Castiel's expression. He hated this conversation because he knew that they had to talk like adults about their feelings and he had never been good at doing just that. »But I know what you mean. Today was the first day since I'm back that I felt … I don’t know … as if I came home?« Silence fell upon them again and they used it to hang after their own thoughts for a little while, sipping their beers as if they had spent endless nights like this, together under a starry sky like they had imagined it in jail. »Being back here in the old house … with Sammy and Adam … I thought that this was what I wanted and what I needed to get back on my feet, but I feel … I don’t know … I feel cornered … I feel like I'm wearing the tightest corset in history and half the time I cannot breathe and I can't stand being inside. I hardly sleep … I use every bit of time I have throughout the day to work on the house but it's never going to be over, it's never going to be done. There is always something new to take care of. I try to occupy myself with all of this, I try to be active in the community again like I was before, but most people change the side of the street when they see me. I never imagined that it would be so hard to come back after that little time. I love this house, I love my family and the memories we made here … But most days, I just want to run and never look back.«

He felt like a child or like a petulant teenager saying these things. He should be so glad that he still had all of this here. He should be so glad that he had a house and a family and a sense of who he was after all of this and yet, when he would close his eyes in the darkness of his bedroom, the nightmares would come back to haunt him and he would see Eldon hovering above him or Eldon's smashed-in face on the floor of the laundry and then he would rise again and start cleaning the house, start tidying up the basement as to not disturb his brothers or he would start doing the laundry, anything just to get his mind off of his dreams.

Again, a moment of silence passed between them, the only sounds came from when they would swallow a sip of beer of from the neighboring houses. A dog was barking in the distance and the TV inside the neighbor's house was running loudly, some action movie playing with loads of gunfire and dramatic music.

»I know that feeling.« Castiel then confessed and let his shoulders slump a little before Dean noticed how he was picking on the silver ring on his left ring finger that he had noticed earlier this day already.

»You married Amelia, right?« It wasn’t really a question, more an observation and though a part of him hoped Cas would deny it, he knew that it would be a lie. So, as Castiel nodded he felt a sense of relief washing over him simply for the fact that Cas had told the truth, but at the same time he felt the sting of jealousy also. It was, of course, ridiculous. What right would he have to be jealous anyway?

»It seemed to be the right thing at the time, you know?« Castiel sighed. »She was dying and marrying her was the easiest way to not have a battle for the custody of my children with another woman that I don’t know and who hates my guts. I didn’t want this to go to court, I didn’t want my kids to go through this, I didn’t want my past to be uncovered again and for everyone to know about my history. I wanted a fresh start as I asked Agent Mills to change my documents, I wanted a new beginning, burying Castiel Pellegrino and live as Castiel Novak.«

»So marrying her was really a means to an end?« Dean asked and he didn’t know if he was angrier that Castiel had married this woman or that he had married her for such a reason. Then again … He couldn’t deny that he understood Castiel's reasoning behind this. And really, wouldn’t he have done the same thing would their places have been swapped? Wouldn’t he have done everything in his power to have his children with him and spare them this custody battle? Of course, this really wasn’t a question. He had gone to jail for his brother, how much more would he be willing to do for a child of his? The thought almost scared him a little.

»I guess it was.« He sounded uncertain of how to feel about his own answer. »But it wasn’t just that.« Was he trying to find an excuse instead of just being plain honest to Dean? He respected him more when he was just honest and not tried to find excuses for the things he felt, said or did. »It was … It was me, trying to fulfill the only wish I knew Amelia had that I could fulfill. She loved me and I knew this and that never changed. I felt … guilty, perhaps. Guilty for being me and unable to love her the same way she loved me. Had I been able to do that five years ago, I might have never ended up in prison. I felt like I had fooled her back then although she knew what she was getting into, although we only shared one night together. It seemed as if I could give her something in return in marrying her. I don’t know … maybe I try to tell myself these things to not feel like a selfish asshole.«

»Do you still think that it was the right thing to do?«

»I would do it again, yes.« He then smiled sadly. »She looked happy that day. And I think, as she died, she did so in peace because she knew that I would take care of our children from now on.«

»How do you think the kids took it?«

»I don’t know.« Yet again a deep sigh. »They were happy when we got married at the hospital. To them it was like a fairy tale come true, I assume. They were heartbroken when their mom died, they still are, but they had time to get used to the thought beforehand and Amelia did an awesome job in preparing them and making sure they wouldn’t be too sad. But now … Now that everything is over … I'm uncertain how to move forward. In their eyes, I just married their mother because this was how it was meant to be and now here I am…«

He wouldn’t say what he meant, but Dean knew it anyway. »I still love you.« Dean finally breathed out before he ruffled a hand through his hair before he huffed out a breathless little laugh. »Isn't that just awesome? I thought … I was certain this would change after I wouldn’t see you for a while. I thought that everything I felt in jail, though true, might ebb off in freedom and that I would be going after every skirt in town soon again. But this is just not the case. I still think of you every day and it's getting ridiculous.«

He had never said these words so openly to anyone outside of his family. Even Lisa. He had thought those words back when he had been with her, but he had never said them to her. Maybe she had hoped he would. Maybe she would have stayed had he said them. All his life, he had been certain that he would have a hard time saying these words to another person but when he was talking to Castiel, nothing seemed hard, not even the truth. He could be himself when he was with him. Not the big responsible protective older brother who always knew the right things to do or say, not some fairy tale hero, just him, just Dean. In Castiel's company he was allowed to be weak, he was allowed to not have an answer all the time, he was allowed not to know the way. It was frightening.

For the longest moment, Castiel didn’t say a word and that didn’t help the uneasiness that Dean experienced all the while he waited for a response and as it came, he realized just how choked up he was. »That’s the best thing I heard in a while.« Castiel finally found his voice again, though it was quiet and hoarse and the exact same thing Dean had told him in prison only a few months ago. This seemed to break the spell at last, as Dean let out a shaky laugh before he turned his body towards Castiel on the narrow steps, only to grab him by the neck and pull him into a kiss.

It was a lazy, slow kiss, barely more than the peck of lips and scraping of teeth, but for Dean, it was enough as he closed his eyes to sink deeper into the kiss and this moment and the feeling of being free at last. »I meant to do that since we met today.« Dean grinned against Castiel's lips before he let go of Cas again. Even Cas smirked at this, but leaned his head forward to rest his forehead against Dean's.

»So what now? Where do we go from here?«

Dean shrugged his shoulders just a little as if he feared every bigger move would break the moment completely. »I don’t know.« He smirked. »But let's find out together. We have our whole lives ahead of us.«

 

**-End of Chapter 25-**


	26. Chapter 26

**Lawrence, Kansas**

He should have known that going on a date with Castiel would be a bad idea. No. The truth was, he had known that it was a bad idea. However, when Sammy turned his puppy eyes on him, Dean was usually powerless. It wasn't Dean’s fault at all anyway. He had just done what his brothers, yes, both of them, had practically begged him to do.

It had all started shortly after their spontaneous barbeque on the day when he and Castiel had first met after prison that his brothers had begun urging him to invite Cas over more often. And that Dean did, after all, he enjoyed spending time with the angel and with his children as well. Dean had always been quite good with kids anyway. It was clear how they stood to each other by now. It was clear that they loved each other ever since that night and yes, Dean wished to continue what they had shared inside the prison. And yet … Yet he felt himself shying away from actually getting close to Castiel ever since then. He found himself shying away from kissing him or even holding his hand when they were not alone and he had noticed quite early on, that Castiel seemed to experience the same thing. So, despite their longing to be together, despite knowing how they felt for each other, whenever they had met up, which had been almost every weekend ever since that first barbeque, they had done so more like friends than anything else.

Apparently, his brother hadn't been able to stand this any longer at one point as he had thrust two gift cards for laser-tag in Dean’s hands and glared at him with the words »Go and ask your boyfriend on a date or I will murder you in your sleep«. At this point, Dean still didn't quite know what to make of his brother’s enthusiasm - though some might call it obsession - for his and Cas’ relationship - or lack thereof. Even Adam seemed tired of how Castiel and his older brother were behaving around each other, otherwise, he would have never offered to babysit the twins with Sam. Needless to say, Dean felt a little pressured by his little brothers. At the same time, however, he was glad that his brothers seemed so supportive and okay with Dean’s relationship to another guy - furthermore to a guy he had met in prison and who belonged to the very same crime family who had kidnapped Adam.

Adam, however, had been all too adamant in telling Dean that he didn't hold any kind of grudge against Castiel.  He hadn't been the one torturing him, after all. Instead, Castiel had protected Dean in prison and that weighed heavier in Adam’s book. Anyway, that was how they got into this situation in the first place. It wasn't so much that he had been afraid of his brothers' reaction anyway. He was more uneasy about how strangers might react and that seemed odd to Dean. Yet, he couldn't shake off these thoughts when he would wander down the street with Castiel and the twins. It was childish and stupid, of course, because who would be ashamed of banging a hot guy like Cas anyway? And it wasn't even so much that he would be ashamed of it either, it was just … Yes, what?

He was hit in the chest again and sure enough, a second later Castiel’s laughter pulled him back out of his thoughts. »You’re dead, again!« The angel grinned at him sheepishly, the murder weapon still in his hand with no flicker of remorse in his eyes for killing his boyfriend. Turned out, Castiel was a lot better at this game than he was, which was a little suspicious in Dean’s eyes. After all, he was the one with the police training and all that shit and Cas had claimed he had never held a gun before in his life!

Lies. All of it, lies.

»I thought you never held a gun before…« Dean found himself grumbling as their match was finally over. Needless to say, he had died three times more after that and seven times in total - which sucked dick massively. Castiel came out of the game the clear winner as they went to return their gear.

»It's true.« Castiel grinned. »Seems I’m a natural, huh? Who would have thought?« That sleazy bastard.

» _Oh, Dean, I don't know if I could shoot you! Oh, Dean, I don't know if I even understand how this works! Oh, Dean, surely I will be terrible at this game!_ « Dean found himself repeating what Cas had told him on the way to the laser tag arena in his car, even went as far as trying to imitate Castiel’s gravelly voice, which only amused Castiel more, as it seemed while they handed back their equipment.

»Come on, don't sulk.« Castiel smirked, slowly dragging Dean away from the counter so that the other guys who had been with them inside the arena could give back their gear as well. »Call it beginner’s luck.«

But Dean still pouted and that, in the end, always got him what he wanted, as it did now too, when Cas grabbed the collar of his plaid shirt to pull him in for a kiss to make it up to him. Cas always fell into his trap and Dean couldn't help but smirk into the kiss as he grabbed him by the neck to pull him closer, brushing his tongue over Castiel’s lips only to feel them part readily for him. Sure enough, not having to worry about the kids seeing them, was nice for a change.

»Hey, fags!« Nevermind. At least Dean was not the only one whos gut reaction was to immediately move away from Castiel as they grew aware of the looks they got from the group of four guys who had walked out with them from the arena. »Would you mind not throwing that gay crap in public?«

It was stupid, of course, and it was something Dean would usually not get riled up over, yet he already felt his blood boil as he looked at the gang of disgusted looking men. In prison, no one had batted a lash when they had seen them make out or just kiss, no matter how rarely they had done so in public, but out here this was a different kind of story. Already Dean was about to walk over to the asshole who had raised his voice at them, as Castiel grabbed him by the shoulder right away. The look Castiel flashed him made it pretty clear to Dean that no, this was not a fight worth taking on. He knew that he was right, of course. They were just bullies who wanted to take their own shortcomings out on them.

»Come on, let's go. You owe me a dinner anyway.« Castiel urged him gently before taking his hand to pull him towards the exit, of course, followed by further insults that were thrown their way from the assholes that they left behind at the counter. »Don't worry about them, they are just jerks.« Castiel murmured as they were already outside and though he knew that Castiel was right, he felt heat sizzling inside his head and the pit of his stomach. His neck was unbearably hot and yes, he even felt ashamed and suddenly Castiel’s hand in his felt too hot to take, he was too close to bear. He wished it would be different, but suddenly, he just wanted to let go of him and walk in the opposite direction.

»I know.« He replied but his jaw was clenched so tightly it hurt. »I know.« But he wanted more to reassure himself of that than he was actually agreeing with Castiel. He had to shake off that experience and try not to have their date overshadowed by it. They still had a dinner reservation waiting for them in some fancy restaurant for which Dean wasn't even dressed properly while Castiel had kept reassuring him that he looked awesome no matter if he was dressed like a lumberjack or in a fancy suit. To Dean, it was still odd to see Castiel wearing something different than this orange jumpsuit or the trademark trenchcoat and black suit that Castiel usually liked to wear during the week. He looked good in plaid, though, especially in the dark blue plaid shirt they had bought together the other day and which he was wearing tonight to match Dean’s own favorite red shirt. »Okay, let's go eat, I’m starving, Sunshine.« Dean turned his head to Castiel again with a grin, or at least he tried a grin.

They had parked Baby down the next block and had to walk through an alley between the laser tag arena and some hipster coffee shop, to get to her and so they did just that. However, Dean should have probably known that it wouldn't be just that easy. Years of being a cop and dealing with rowdies like those who had just attacked them inside the arena, should have told him what would happen as soon as Castiel and he were halfway through the alley. They were jumped from behind before they even registered the thundering footsteps rushing after them.

It all happened so quickly, that Dean had a hard time even realizing what was happening in the first place. He felt a sharp kick in the back of his left knee that made him stumble forward, dragging Cas with him. As Dean caught himself and whirled around he was greeted with a punch to the left side of his jaw and though initially taken by surprise and staggering back, he was all too quick to retaliate the next second, taking their attackers by surprise this time and he was not the only one who had decided to fight back. It seemed that they had both agreed on showing them that they had decided to fuck with the wrong people without even sharing so much as a glance.

And, oh boy, Castiel could be vicious if he wanted to. As soon as the first guy folded in on himself and held his stomach after Castiel had landed quite the punch there, Castiel’s knee hit him right underneath the chin, probably even strong enough to break bones or knock out teeth. »You fucking psychos!« One of the guys spat at them, staggering back and spitting blood on the ground after Dean had punched him square in the jaw. This sucker wouldn't eat solids for at least the next week.

The next thing he knew was how someone kneed him in the back and as he toppled over he saw how one of the guys made the grand mistake of trying to push Castiel on the ground only to be thrown over the angel’s shoulder like in some kung fu movie. Dean couldn't deny that he was impressed by his boyfriend’s moves, but he had his hands busy not getting the living crap kicked out of him as he fell to the ground and had a hard time getting back up again only to charge at his attacker like a bull. It was pure chaos after this and only ended as they were startled by a shout coming from further down the alley, from where they had come in the first place.

»I'm going to call the cops!« It was the owner of the laser tag arena, holding his phone to his ear already and before Dean knew it, Cas had pulled him by the arm and away from the guy who Dean had proceeded to kick after he had pushed him to the ground. Hopefully, they would always remember that they had been beaten up by two fags. First, it was Cas who just pulled him further down the alley and towards the other end, but soon enough they were running at the same speed next to each other and they were still running as they left the alley and dove into the next street. They ran until they reached Baby. She was still patiently waiting for them a bit further up the hill.

Only as they were already two streets away from the scene, Dean erupted into laughter. He was hurting all over, his jaw ached, his nose was bleeding, his favorite red shirt was all torn up and his knuckles were bruised, but he couldn't help but laugh.

First, as he glanced at Castiel, his roughed-up boyfriend looked confused, but while Dean laughed he could see the smile tugging on the corners of his mouth until he too started laughing, which made his beginning crow feet all too prominent. He wondered if he had ever seen him laugh like this before, if he had ever heard that rich, deep sound. »Jesus!« Dean breathed finally although his stomach hurt and he still couldn't quite contain his laughter. »We can impossibly turn up at this fancy restaurant like this, Cas!«

Castiel’s new shirt was in even worse shape than his own, one sleeve almost completely ripped off the seems, most of his buttons torn off, a large tear in the left knee of his jeans and blood seeping out of the wound underneath. His lips were all bloody and he had a nasty cut going through his left eyebrow.

»No … No, we can't.« He chuckled and threw his head back into his seat. »So what now?«

Dean was certain that he was not the only one whose adrenaline was still running high and so, instead of directing Baby back home, Dean decided he would not drive home at all and instead led his car outside of the bustle of the town until there was nothing around them but fields and forest. »Now we do something stupid.« Dean grinned before he pulled his car over into a remote little clearing.

»I start to get the feeling that everything we do is somewhat stupid.« Castiel remarked with a small huff of laughter as Dean turned off the engine.

»Don't worry, Sunshine, this idea is especially stupid.« Before Castiel could do or say anything else, Dean had shut him up as he instead captured his lips to plunder Castiel's mouth instead, wrapping one arm around Castiel's waist to bring him closer and running his fingers through his already messy hair. He could taste copper as he kissed Castiel, but that didn't turn him off even in the slightest. Castiel groaned and tangled his tongue with Dean’s in appreciation despite the taste of blood or Dean’s aching jaw. Castiel pulled away for a second to start biting kisses along the uninjured side of Dean’s jaw. Dean ran his hands from Castiel's unruly hair to his neck and shoulders, squeezing them shortly before he swung one of his legs over both of Castiel’s and licked his way back into his lover’s mouth.

As always, Dean was all too quick to find a way underneath Castiel’s torn plaid shirt and soon after that even under the dark undershirt, slowly sliding the fabric up. He wanted to be mindful of his injuries, but in this moment, he doubted that Castiel cared at all and neither did he. »I think this idea of yours…« Castiel breathed between kisses. »is not stupid at all…« Dean hummed in appreciation against Castiel’s lips, as he brushed the plaid shirt off Castiel's shoulders only to break the kiss so that he could pull off his undershirt, allowing Dean to brush his fingers over Castiel’s chest, exploring every inch of his naked skin as if he had never touched it before.

»I'm glad to hear that« He rumbled against Castiel's lips and distracted himself by searching for the switch on the side of the seats to lower the seats back, as he already felt Castiel's eager hands on his own skin as they were slowly shoving up the fabric of Dean’s undershirt, impatiently tugging on it to get it off in the confined space of the car. He helped his lover as best as he could while rolling his hips ever so teasingly, grinding his ass down where he could already feel Castiel's half-hard cock through the denim of his torn jeans.

As he finally found the switch he had been searching for, they were thrown in the back of the car and Dean finally gave up on his plan of getting them both naked. The dim light in the Impala made Castiel's features underneath him stand out even more, before Castiel was pulling him back down by his neck. Dean bit down softly on Castiel's cut bottom lip and licked at the seam of his lips until they opened willingly, biting back at him and trailing down his cheek, scraping over stubble.

All too soon their kiss was broken again as Castiel trailed open-mouthed kisses along Dean’s throat until Dean tilted his head to one side, allowing him better access. Castiel's hands settled on his hips and his fingers sneaked into the waistband of Dean’s jeans and boxer shorts all too quickly. Dean ran a hand through Castiel's hair and pulled lightly as Castiel's mouth was upon his right nipple, licking and kissing and teasing the tender flesh with his teeth. He was tight and hot against the seams of his jeans and could feel already that Castiel felt the same way, prompting Dean to buck against him hungrily.

»Dean« Cas moaned heavily against his skin, almost a little accusatory, almost a bit offended by the way Dean moved against his crotch. »Up.« He finally added, grabbing his hips tighter now. It had been too long since he and Castiel had been this close. It had been too long since he had felt Castiel's skin press against his own. Dean groaned and, all too eagerly pushed himself up on Castiel's shoulders to allow his lover to get the jeans and his boxer shorts off his ass. Even from his position, he could see the muscles of Castiel's shoulders working. They were even broader than when they first met in prison.

Dean couldn't help the heavy breath that escaped him as his cock was in the air at last, before he lowered his ass back down on Castiel's lap, his jeans and boxer shorts hanging at his ankles, his cock digging into Castiel's stomach. Castiel merely grunted and leaned his head on Dean's shoulder as Dean fumbled with the button of Castiel's jeans before shoving his hand into his pants and palming his cock impatiently. Castiel's hand was on him before he knew it, giving his member a few impatient tucks and jerks. Dean couldn't help but grunt as Castiel twisted his hand at the head of his cock.

»Fuck…« Dean breathed. It was tricky, all of it. It wasn't his first time having sex in this car, but it certainly was the first time having sex in this car with another man. They didn't even have lube or condoms and in the end, it didn't matter. Wouldn't be the first time, after all. Spit had to do the trick, he assumed and Castiel seemed to think the same thing as he pushed a finger in slowly with more resistance than when they did this in prison. Despite the lack of lubrication, Castiel was gentle, twisting and pushing in and out, in and out, until Dean was nothing more than a quivering moaning mess on top of Castiel. He eased his second finger in and continued lazily until he was able to add the third finger, working Dean open slowly but surely, massaging his thumb along Dean’s perineum. »I missed that…«

Dean was rocking back against him and he shivered as Castiel ran a hand over his back, kissing along his shoulders. »Come on, Cas« He groaned. »Do it.« His toes curled ever so slightly as once more Castiel found his prostate, making his back arch and a deep moan escaping his lips. Almost he hit his head on the ceiling. Castiel pulled his fingers out slowly, watching the shudder go down Dean’s spine before grabbing his cock to guide it into Dean slowly. Dean flexed his thighs as he began to lower himself down with a moan as Castiel finally breached the tight ring of muscles.

Deans groan almost turned into a high pitched whine when he felt Castiel push further and further inside, clutching Castiel’s shoulders for support and feeling them tense underneath his fingers while Castiel was running his hands up and down his sides to ease the tension out of his body. Dean dug his toes into the upholstery of the Impala in pleasure, thinking of the times he had been on the receiving end of a situation like this. He didn't go all the way down just yet after that much time having to go without this. He felt as if he hadn't had sex with Castiel in years although it had only been a few months. He felt tight around Castiel's cock and his breathing came out heavy.

He pulled himself up slowly, just a bit, before pushing back down again, moaning loudly and it seemed as if Castiel could only return the sentiment as he bit down in Dean’s shoulder with a heavy groan, grabbing Dean by his hips a little harder than he ever did before. Their pace was slow, getting used to the rhythm of each other and they panted and groaned when something worked just right after that long a time. Yet it was as if they had never stopped doing this, as if they had never been separated. It seemed all too easy to fall back into their old rhythm, into each other. Dean began to push down harder, taking in more and more as Castiel found it in himself to pull him down harder and move faster against him. He rolled his hips, making Dean curse under his breath as he felt precome smear against the angel’s abs. Dean threw himself into the friction of Castiel’s stomach for just a moment before pushing back onto Castiel's cock, groaning louder with each thrust Castiel made.

»Fuck, Dean!« Castiel sword as Dean flexed around his cock, squeezing tight and warm around him. Dean couldn't think straight anymore as he grabbed Castiel's shoulders a little harder. His cock was swollen and desperate for his hand, but he still avoided touching it as he eased up and pushed back down. »It has been too long.« He whispered with a gasp against Dean’s neck before he started trailing open-mouthed kisses along Dean’s jaw once more the way he knew that Dean loved it.

»True.« He groaned quietly. He found it harder and harder to think beyond wrapping his hand around his own cock as his heart was pounding in his chest. It was Cas, however, who took his right hand from Dean’s hips to wrap it around him and Dean couldn't help throwing his head back, moaning even louder than before as Castiel pulled tight and pressed a thumb underneath the head of his cock. This time, he did hit his head on the ceiling, but he didn't care. Castiel's other hand shot up to his neck to pull Dean down into a kiss again, resting his hand on the back of his head where Dean had hit the ceiling, gently massaging the tension out of his skull with those skilled fingers. To Dean, it was always fascinating to see how a stiff and restrained man like Castiel could unravel like this when they would fuck. Their kiss was sloppy, all teeth and tongues as Castiel thrust harder into him with each time Dean lowered himself onto his lap.

He knew that he was close as Cas dragged his thumb up the underside of his cock and twisted his fist at the base just right, prompting Dean to thrust into his hand whether he wanted to or not. He jumped right over the edge after this, pulling Castiel with him in a matter of seconds as Castiel bit down hard on his left shoulder once more. Someday he would leave behind scars for certain, but Dean didn't quite care even if his boyfriend would scar him for life.

The air inside the car was humid and hot as they breathed together, heavily panting against each other's throats. Castiel's cum slowly dripped out of him and for once he did not even care for his beloved leather seats as Castiel pulled out of him slowly, going easy on him when Dean grunted in discomfort as they pulled apart. Instead of bothering Dean to get off, Castiel suddenly just grabbed him by the hips again to throw him onto the backseat of the car, causing him almost to hit his head once again, this time on the door, though. Castiel remained hovering on top for just a moment, stealing lazy kisses from him like a thief in the night, before he just slumped down on Dean and buried his face in the crook of his neck. »What a night…« Cas sighed. »Warn me next time…«

»And where would be the fun in that, Angel?« He snickered softly and raked his fingers gently through Castiel's dark hair. It was the first time in what felt like years that Dean was able to breathe again as if some unknown tension had finally fallen off his shoulders. »Well, at least now I understand how the girls I had sex with in this car felt like.« He snickered teasingly and Castiel all too willingly jumped right on it.

»And here I was thinking I was your first…« He huffed with a grin against Dean’s throat, nibbling at his skin playfully.

»You were my first and probably last man, that has to count for something, right?«

»Probably your last man?«

»Very certainly.« Dean grinned sheepishly down at him. Through the window in the door of his car, he could see the clear starry sky above them. »You know … I thought about it a lot ever since we met back up again … I want to continue this. Not stealing moments like this from our routine, but having you by my side - like a real couple.«

»I thought we were a couple.«

»We were …. but let's be honest, we didn't act like it. We didn't even kiss unless we were completely alone and we are never completely alone.« Suddenly it was Cas who broke away as if Dean had finally said something that the angel didn't like to hear at all when he sat up and slowly zipped up his jeans again after putting his member back inside.

»Dean…« Oh, he hated the sound of that already. »I don't know … If I can give you what you want … Just yet.«

»You're afraid how your kids might react to this … I get it.«

»It's not because of you, though. They love you and Sam and Adam, even Bobby. When we moved to Lawrence … when we met you guys, it was almost like coming home, you know? It wasn't easy for them after Amelia's death and they are still grieving their mother, but with you guys they found a family and I don't want to ruin that.«

»Cas … Take it from someone who lost both parents: They will never stop grieving their mother, but that doesn't mean they wouldn't want their father to be happy.«

»You are right … I know you are.« He mumbled. »But I'm afraid how they might react when they realize that we are a couple, so soon after their mother. I mean, I just married their mother a few months ago, Dean. I married their mom and for them, this was like a fairy tale coming to life. True love’s kiss and all … How will they ever be able to understand that despite that I love you so shortly after they buried their mom? I don't want them to think that love can jump so easily from person to person.«

Dean nodded shortly as he sat up and pulled up his own pants. »I understand.« He sighed before dropping his head on Castiel's shoulder, breathing in deeply. Yes, of course, he understood his boyfriend’s fears. »Then we will continue stealing little moments like this.«

They were both not happy with this solution as they drove back to the Winchester house. »You're not the only one who is afraid, you know?« He finally broke the silence as they drove down the neighborhood Dean and his family lived in. »I know it's stupid, but I'm afraid how people react to me. I never felt this way before, Cas. I never had reason to feel like that. Growing up, I was always popular, except for the occasional slip-ups when I wasn't popular.« He smirked. »People liked me, I did everything I could to give back to the community. I helped others, I was there when other people needed me and thus I never had reason to be afraid what they would think of me.  I mean … I was the boy next door, you know? Nothing special about me. Ever since I got out … it's different. People look at me differently. Of course they do … They think I am a cold-blooded killer, after all. The neighbors that looked fondly at me once, look at me as if I was the devil now … They don't want me here, or Sammy and they show that quite clearly too. It's like I lost all rights of calling this place home.« He said as he was slowly pulling into the driveway. »And I … I know that I can't change anything about that now. I know that it's of no use, but Im afraid what they will say or think when they learn that I’m bi now too. Not only a cold-blooded killer but one who likes to fuck another guy.« As he switched off the engine standing in front of the garage, he gripped the steering wheel a little harder. »It's stupid.« He repeated.

»It's not stupid.« Castiel sighed. »It's human. You are not stupider than I am.«

Dean huffed a small laugh at this. »Now look at us, two idiots against the rest of the world, huh?«

»At least we have each other and can be stupid together.« They shared another kiss before they finally got out of the car.

As they walked into the house, there was still light coming from the living room which surprised Dean more than he thought it would. But there they were, his brothers sitting on the couch, watching some weird Disney movie with the children. They didn't even realize that Cas and Dean had come back home so they used the moment to lean in the doorframe and just watch the four of them. Adam and Sam had the twins between them, although Jack was pretty much clutching Adam for dear life while Clair had snuggled up to Sam and seemed quite content with the situation, her head resting on his lap and her feet on Adam’s right leg.

»Hey, you guy … still awake?« Dean finally disrupted the peace with a soft smile playing on his lips. Sam’s head whipped up right away as he looked to the door.

»Oh hey!« He yawned before he finally took in how Dean and Castiel looked. »What happened to you guys?«

»We had a little adventure, nothing too wild, don't worry.«

»An adventure?« Jack’s head whipped up and towards the door right away. Thanks to the dim light inside the house, the kids weren't able to see the full extent of their colorful injuries. »What kind of adventure?«

»The kind where it's time for little kids to go to bed, Jackie.« Castiel smirked and broke up the movie party. There was scrambling and shuffling on the couch until everyone finally got up from their spots before Dean and Cas could begin to work on the extendable couch. However, the wonderful thing about children was that they were full of surprises.

»Daddy, why don't you sleep in Dean’s bed?« Claire suddenly chimed up already dressed in her pajamas. Good, Sammy, very good.

»Yeah!« Jack, as always, helped his sister. »We thought you like him!«

»I … do like Dean…« Castiel replied confused with the sheet for the couch still in his hands. »He’s my best friend.« Which wasn't even a lie.

»Don't be stupid, Daddy!« Jack shot back right away.

»Yes, Daddy, don't be stupid. He’s way out of your league anyway … You should snag him while you can!«  Castiel was not the only one who was utterly horrified at the words of his four-year-old daughter. But while Dean and Cas just stared at the twins in shock, Adam and Sam erupted in laughter.

»What do you mean, Claire? And where did you get that from? Snag him while you can…«

»Sammy said this!« Jack grinned and Sam didn't even seem ashamed in any way, »And we saw you guys kiss when you thought we wouldn't see it!«

»Well, someone was afraid for no reason.« Dean smirked at Castiel as they finished preparing the couch, although tonight only two people would sleep on this couch as it seemed.

»At least I wasn't the only one then.« Castiel replied after a moment of hesitation.

 

**-End of Chapter 26-**


	27. Chapter 27

**Lawrence, Kansas**

It had begun with a stone that was thrown through the window of Adam’s bedroom and narrowly missed their little brother’s head one evening. Adam was only saved by a book that had fallen from his desk as he had crouched down to pick it up. This had come as a shock to everyone in the house. First, they had thought it had been a stupid prank from some stupid teenagers, perhaps even the bullies from Adam’s school, but they had soon realized, that this was not the case.

It had begun with the stone flying through Adam’s window and shattering it, sending shards of glass flying everywhere and leaving their little brother with quite the shock and a cut on his naked foot after he had stepped into the shards on his way out of the room in panic. Soon, there had been other things proving that they, the Winchester brothers, were no longer welcome in this neighborhood. It had started out subtle enough with people changing the side of the street when either Sam or Dean walked down the sidewalk. It was always against them, never Adam, and Sam was not naive about it either. To them, their neighbors, they were a killer and a junkie, and though this might be true for Sam, even if Dean would finally tell the truth to the world, they wouldn't care anyway. Growing up in this neighborhood, Sam had never quite realized what a bunch of narrow-minded assholes they all were, but now, after everything that had happened in the last year, they were showing their true faces.

Sam had always known that the people of the neighborhood had looked at their family with suspicion and prejudice. A father with three boys - Worse even! - An alcoholic father with three boys, who had decided to raise them all by himself and without accepting the clever advice from the women of the street. In this street, the people didn't like anything that was against their white-picket-fence norms and they, the Winchesters, were anything but normal. Still, he had been living in the illusion that they had been a part of this community, that they were liked. They had thrown more than enough barbeques, garden parties or super bowl parties with their neighbors flocking into their house and playing nice. Now, however, it was as if they were a band of demons living in this house and celebrating dark magic and sacrificing children and cats.

Suddenly, the neighborhood he had grown up in, where he had played on the street with his brothers, where he had learned to ride a bicycle and played soccer with the other children during summer and went trick or treating on Halloween, felt cold and unfriendly. They were not welcome anymore. Under different circumstances, Sam would have moved out again or petitioned that he and his brothers would look for a new home, but he knew that Dean would never be willing to give up their childhood home. Dean was a very sentimental person, even though he tried not to appear like it. He was the kind of guy who kept his favorite LP’s neatly organized in boxes, he was the kind of guy who kept his trophies form high school that didn't mean anything now, he was the kind of guy who held onto all the photo books they had from when they were children, he was the kind of guy who kept memorabilia from everything he could, including a piece of his prison jumpsuit with his number on it.

Knowing that, Sam Winchester came to the conclusion, that he wanted to support his brother in any way possible. As long as Dean would not be willing to leave the house behind and start fresh somewhere else, they would stay and deal with the jabs at their expenses. They would deal with the cops being called on them for alleged noise disturbances in the middle of the night when they had all been fast asleep. They would deal with people coming to their house to buy the Impala or a part of their furniture after some neighbor had apparently put ads on craigslist for them. Dean had been able to laugh about it, until it had hit his beloved car. After that, he had not pulled Baby out of the garage again.

»Hey, Sammy, what are you doing there? What's with the mess?« It was Dean’s voice, still hoarse from sleep, that pulled Sam from his bitter thoughts this morning. It was Saturday and despite the early hour, the street was already buzzing with activity because of the annual spring celebration that always took place on the first weekend in May. He had always loved this celebration, spending time outside with his friends, enjoying grilled foods from the neighbors while Dean had tested every pie he could get his hands on. He didn't know if he wanted to go out there this year. It promised to be a beautiful sunny day just like last year when they had taken part in the celebration, with Dean baking three pies to contribute and surprising everyone with his baking talent.

As Sam threw a glance over his shoulder at his brother as Dean walked into the kitchen, he noticed the dark circles under Dean’s eyes. He hadn't slept again. He thought they wouldn't notice, but they did. Oddly enough, he only seemed relaxed when Castiel would be around and though Sam liked the other man, he was still not too sure about this situation with his brother and Castiel. Dean, however, was quick to remind him of the mess he had made at the kitchen table. He had collected every single picture frame he could find in the house and taken the photos out, a bunch of photo books lying on the table beside him. »I decided it would be nice to digitize all our photos - or at least the most important ones.«

»Why?«

»Because … I thought it might be nice to have them, you know? I mean, we are not going to live here under the same roof forever like this. And I would like to have them too, and Adam will appreciate that too. This way, we will always have them, even if something happens to the originals.«

»What's that supposed to mean?«

»You can never be too sure, Dean. Better safe than sorry.«

»Is this about the threats?«

The threats, yes. They had started to receive crudely written letters a few days ago, threatening to burn down their house or temper with their gas if they wouldn't leave voluntarily. Dean, though a policeman at heart, had been quick to dismiss them and just throw them away. »Yes, Dean. It's about the threats. You might think this is all just some sick joke, but I don't and I … this isn't much, I know, but I know how much those photos mean to you, especially those of mom. So yes, I am going to scan them all, just to be save.«

»And what if your laptop gets stolen?« Dean replied with a dry smirk and a twitch of his brow to show him just how nonsensical Sam’s approach was.

»I am going to copy them onto a DVD and give it to Cas when he visits today.« Sam sighed, which brought him to another topic entirely as he pointed at the oven. »Why is there an apple pie in the oven, Dean?« And when did his brother start baking it? Well, he had probably done it while Adam and he had been fast asleep.

»Because today we celebrate spring, Sammy.«

»Dean … You are not honestly thinking about contributing to that party after everything.«

»Yes, I am and I will, Sammy. We are still part of this community and I want to celebrate with my neighbors. That's why Cas and the twins are coming over, after all!«

»Oh come on, as if you two would need a reason to hang out.« Sam found himself smirking and rolling his eyes. Despite everything, Dean would still not outright say that he was in love with Cas although everyone could see it, although even Castiel’s children didn't seem to mind. Last time he had been like this was when he had met Lisa. He had been heartbroken when she left town. It was actually nice to see him so hopeful and happy when Castiel would be around. The kids too seemed to love Dean. Then again, Dean had always been good with kids. »Dean … Do you really want to do this today? After how they have been are treating us? They don't want us there. We should just … I don't know … You guys could go to the park instead or we go swimming or something like that. Why torture yourself?«

»They just need to see that we are still the same people, Sam. They will come around eventually. No one can resist my apple pie.« Though that was true, Sam was still anxious about how the day would turn out. He knew that his brother was carrying around a lot of ballast still about which he didn't want to talk and maybe this day would only make everything worse. He had been hit quite hard this week already, not only by those letters, but by being rejected by every business he had applied to for a job. Most of the businesses in town he had applied to, hadn't even wanted to talk to him and when he had been invited, his brother had returned with a crooked tie and slumped shoulders. No one wanted to hire him and he could never go back to the police. And still, Dean was not willing to tell the truth.

»Maybe you are right.« Sam sighed with furrowed brows. It wasn't what he was thinking at all, but it was the only thing he could tell his brother right now as he went back to his work and had Dean prepare breakfast as he used to before everything had come crashing down on them. »So you and Castiel, huh?«

»Sammy you're rambling again. What do you want?« Dean sighed over the sound of sizzling bacon in the pan before him. »Me and Cas what?«

»You … I mean are you together now or what?«

»You never cease to amaze me, Sammy. Why are you so interested in my sex life? Get yourself a girlfriend, man!«

Sam found himself laughing as he found his brother so flustered. Dean might have his back turned to him but Sam could clearly see it in the way he was holding himself that he was flustered. It came as no surprise too. Dean had always been eager to appear manly and masculine, probably to make up for his pretty face. He had often been insulted for his good looks by other guys and he had often been mocked and ridiculed with other guys calling him gay while growing up. Being bisexual or gay now was not easy for someone like Dean and he probably didn't like to admit to it or talk about his true feelings for Castiel. At least not to Sam. He would come around sooner or later.

Castiel and the twins arrived in the late morning hours as the party outside was already in full swing. The twins were excited as the group left the house to walk down the street towards the end of it where their neighborhood ended in a turning area that was now working as a circular little plaza with tables and little booths, everything set up by the volunteers of the neighborhood committee - to which Dean had belonged too before everything had turned south for the Winchesters. In previous years, Dean had always turned up in uniform for the kids. It was meant to install trust in the children in the police force, so that they would never be afraid to go talk to a cop when they needed help. It had been the biggest hit, two years ago, when Dean and his partner had shown up with their car and allowed the children to climb inside and start the siren.

Now everything seemed different. The moment they walked past the first few people, Sam grew aware of the looks they earned but he just squared his shoulders and held his chin up high. Dean wanted this, a day of normalcy, a glimpse of how things used to be and should be, and so he would play along. Even Adam seemed a bit nervous, though.

»Balloons!« Jack suddenly exclaimed. He clung to his father’s hand as if his life would depend on it. His sister, Claire, was much more brave and adventurous than he was, walking by Dean’s side, grabbing onto his pinky finger just to be safe, while Dean was holding his prized pie in the other. »Daddy, can I get a balloon?« Castiel just smirked at this and so the ragtag group of guys with the two children walked over to the barrel with the balloons that one of the neighbors safeguarded.

»Hey, Steve.« Dean greeted with a lopsided smirk and Steve’s eyes widened almost comically at the greeting, while Adam and Sam kept their distance and just waved. »We’d take two balloons, please. What color do you want, guys?«

»Red!« Claire immediately chirped, Jack, however, tucked on his father’s jacket to get him to lean down so that he could whisper in his ear. Apparently, Jack still took the whole ‘don't talk to strangers’ thing a bit too seriously. »Green.« Castiel then turned to Steve and, though a bit hesitant, Steve handed them the balloons in exchange for a dollar from Dean.

»So, who’s your friend, Dean?« Steve, a tall and rather chubby man with an already balding head as the true representation of the white suburban middle-class of America, turned to Castiel and his nervous smile could not fool anyone, except Jack, perhaps. He was clearly wary of the presence of the Winchesters plus strangers.

»That's Castiel Novak.« Dean replied. Even from a few feet away, Sam noticed the way Cas looked at Dean but knowing his brother, Dean would not tell anyone that they were more than friends. Dean was still so very reluctant with all of this while Cas was clearly not bothered by their relationship. He could only hope that Dean’s fear of rejection from society would not destroy that thing they had - whatever it was.

»Where do you meet?«

»Err…« Thankfully, Claire came to the rescue as she suddenly pulled on Dean’s hand.

»Dean! Come on! There is a carousel! I want to go on the carousel!«

»I don't … It's too fast…« Jack chimed in immediately.

»Then don't! Dean, you go with me?« And of course, his brother couldn't deny her this wish as he nodded with a grin.

»Sure thing, Claire-bear. Just let me get this pie to the pie table and then we are good to go on the carousel!« They left Steve behind with a smile and a ‘see you around’ before they dove into the crowd now that the kids had their balloons. While Dean was still adamant to blank out the response they were getting from the people around, Sam felt their scrutiny to its full extent and he was sure Adam felt the same way. He could hear them whisper and make remarks at their expenses all the while Dean kept chatting with Cas or the twins on his mission to get to the pie table. It had to be hard for Dean. Surely, he noticed all the looks and comments too. It had to be even harder because he knew he was an innocent man but everyone looked at him as if he was a monster. If he felt in any way hurt by it, he didn't show it, though. His poker face had always been flawless and it still was as they reached the pie buffet and were again the target of everyone's scrutiny.

»Hey, Amanda!« Dean greeted one of the women of the street that usually took care of everything related to baking for this community. Sam remembered that Dean had once been babysitting for her when he was a teenager. Her brats had to be teens now themselves. Amanda, who had previously laughed with a friend of hers, now stopped dead in her tracks and her face froze for a second before she forced herself to smile again. »Nice day, huh? Perfect for the big party!«

»Oh … Hey, Dean…« Amanda replied hesitantly and brushed a lock of her red hair behind her ear. »You brought a pie?«

»Yeah, I know I should have told you in advance but I wasn't sure I would manage to get it done in time. You know, so much to do around the house…«

»Yes … I’ve seen you work on the house.« She mumbled quietly and quickly glanced at her friend before throwing a pointed look at the buffet table instead. »But I'm afraid, we really have not enough room for more. This year we got an awful lot cakes and pies. It would be a waste to have it stand here and no one eating it.«

»Everybody loves Dean’s pie.« Adam suddenly chimed in from behind their big brother’s shoulder and apparently Amanda’s friend was not nearly as fakely polite as Amanda herself, as she too chimed in from the sidelines.

»The thing is, nobody would want to even touch that pie, Boy. Who knows what he put in there? Maybe he’s trying to poison the entire neighborhood with that.« She hissed and from the side, Sam could see how, for a second, his brother’s face fell before Dean regained control over his expression again and forced a smile.

»That's ridiculous.« He replied. »Why would I do something like that?«

»One time a killer, always a killer!« Amanda’s friend quipped but this time it was Castiel who stepped forward to put his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

»Come, Dean. They don't deserve your help.« He said just loud enough that the women both heard him clearly enough as he pulled Dean away from the buffet. Though he did his very best to appear calm, Sam could see and feel the fury radiating from Castiel and he couldn't help the small smirk ghosting over his face at this. Dean had always been the one protecting everyone in their family with no one to protect him, but apparently Castiel was all too eager to fill that role. He wondered how his brother behaved around Castiel when they were alone, though. He wondered if his brother might allow himself to be a little more vulnerable when they were completely alone and he was all the same completely aware that he would never get to see that. This was something that only belonged to the two of them and it was odd to realize that it perhaps even hurt a little. After all, he knew his brother better than anyone else and yet, he would probably never get to see him vulnerable and without that stoic mask he always put on for everyone around, never willing to show that he was only human.

From the pie incident onwards their day at the festival only went downhill up to the point where even the children started to realize that they weren't welcome. Dean had promised Claire to hop onto the carousel with her before and he would have gone through with it, had it not been for the guy at the carousel outright denying him to join her despite the fact that there was another guy with a child waiting for the ride to start. At this, Claire didn’t start crying or throwing a tantrum, she actually kicked the stranger in the shin leading to a whole other drama that ended with Jack crying until he was allowed to sit on Castiel's shoulders and the group finally leaving the festival under the scrutinizing looks of their neighbors. What probably hurt his brother the most was his injured pride as he had to leave with his tail between his legs although he was still holding his head high and proud.

»I'm sorry, you guys.« Dean sighed as they later sat in the living room of the Winchester house, devouring Dean's prized apple pie with gusto, even though his older brother seemed unable to get down a bite. It was never a good sign when Dean Winchester would refuse to eat. »I thought we could have a nice day at the festival.« He directed his words first and foremost at the Novaks and yet Sam knew that he was also apologizing to his little brothers. They had known that this day could only end in heartbreak for his brother but now that they were at this point, Sam was actually furious. His brother didn’t deserve the treatment that he got and he was still unwilling to leave this neighborhood behind to start over fresh. This house and his family, that was everything he had and everything he had always fought for in the past, if not even the reason why he had survived his time in jail, despite everything that had happened to him.

»It's not your fault.« Castiel replied sitting beside Dean on the old sofa but Dean didn’t even look at him, he only stared at the photo on the coffee table. After he had scanned all the pictures, Sam had, of course, put them all back. His brother would kick him out if he hadn’t. He was just about to say something as a loud rumble of thunder startled them all. Claire jumped up from her spot on a pillow on the ground, left her pie behind on the coffee table and ran towards the large window that allowed a look at the street from the living room.

Before anyone could say something, the little girl squealed with laughter and glee and as they followed her inquisitive eyes and saw that rain had started to pour down and flooding the street in a matter of seconds, their confusion about Claire's joy was quickly diminished as Claire turned around with the biggest grin. »Serves them right!« She grinned, prompting her father into a concerned glance.

»Why are you saying this, Sweetheart? That’s not very nice, you know? Those people worked hard to make this festival happen.« Always the goody-two-shoes Dean had described to them after jail, always trying to get his children to behave nice and proper. Sam, however, shared Claire's joy now.

»They were mean to our boys, Dad! They don’t deserve a sunny day.« It was this moment that Sam decided that Claire Novak was a blessing to this household and group of stubborn men.

Three weeks later, his brother was on the verge of a serious depression. At least to Sam, it looked like he was. There was nothing left to do on the house to get his mind off of his worries and he still hadn’t found a job. Bobby had already asked Dean numerous times if he wanted to fill in the gap his father had left but Dean, though he wouldn’t say it, was concerned that Bobby would lose customers would he decide to employ a killer like him.

By now it seemed that only the weekends when Castiel would visit them or when they would meet up somewhere to do something fun with Castiel's kids, were the only glimmer of hope Dean still had. Sam honestly hadn’t thought that his brother would be struggling so much with his release from prison and facing the real world again. However, whenever they were out shopping or somewhere around town and Dean would be faced with his former coworkers his mood would only slip more and more into a constant stream of repressed sadness that he was unable to shake off no matter how much Adam and Sam tried to make him laugh. He only seemed a little more at ease when Castiel and the kids were around.

So, as Sam drove down the street that was leading into their neighborhood, he was actually glad that it was Friday. He had just picked up Adam after his trip up to Valley Hope for his weekly chat with Sonny and was now looking forward to a weekend of his older brother actually smiling when Cas and the kids would stay at their place for the weekend.

As he had left earlier this morning he had left his brother working on the Impala out in the driveway and it was a nice enough day to actually wash Baby, as Dean had told him before Sam had left. Maybe he should wash the car he got from Bobby too this weekend. Couldn’t hurt, he assumed. The old Honda Civic was already on its deathbed, but Dean had promised him more than once to rescue that old sweetheart for him. It would be easier and cheaper than to buy a new car.

»What the hell?« Adam broke his rambling about school for just a second to exclaim these three words and pointing out of the window. As Sam followed his brother's outstretched arm, dread was beginning to settle in his stomach. There was a fire going on in their neighborhood and Sam, even before he pulled up closer, already knew that it was their house that had gone up in flames. As Sam brought the car to a screeching halt not far away from their house, the firefighters had yet to arrive if they had been called at all that was. Most of their neighbors were just standing in the street staring at the burning house, some in shock, some in … yes, what? He didn’t want to think about it.

»Adam, call the fire department and an ambulance, now!« Sam thundered at his brother as they both scrambled out of the car. And while Adam fumbled with his phone in terror with trembling fingers, Sam was already running towards the house. First, he was scanning the crowd of people for his brother, yelling out his name, but when he didn’t get a response, he didn’t waste time.

»Sam!« He heard Adam scream in horror as he could only witness his big brother running inside the house. At least one of their elderly neighbors had as much common sense as to hold back the youngest Winchester from running after Sam, as he realized throwing one last look over his shoulder before diving into the house. The fire had not yet reached the ground floor, but was raging on the first floor of their house with flames licking their way down the staircase by now.

»Dean!« Sam found himself screaming as loudly as he could over the sound of crackling flames and cracking woodwork. Smoke was lingering in the air, making it almost impossible for him to see. It was easy to get disoriented in such an environment and soon, Sam was engulfed in darkness as he dove deeper into the smoke in search of his brother. There was no way of telling where Dean was. If he was upstairs, he was already dead. The Impala had been parked outside on the street, so he was home. The kitchen! Surely, his brother was in the kitchen, preparing everything for their barbeque tonight!

Coughing and wheezing, Sam pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose and staggered forward. He could find his way through this house blind and yet he was stumbling against furniture more often than not on his way to the kitchen. To his luck, the kitchen was by now the least affected room of the house. The smoke, though starting to fill the small room, was not as thick as it was in the hallway of the living room yet. He could still see through the biting smoke with tearing eyes and – there he was. Sam felt his heart sink in relief as he found Dean on the kitchen floor, passed out from the smoke perhaps. He had probably not noticed what was going on before it had been too late. The way he was lying there told Sam that he had been on his way out of the kitchen, probably already coughing from the smoke wafting down from upstairs, grabbing a chair for support and pulling it down with him as he fell.

Sam quickly kicked the chair away. He was dizzy already as he grabbed his brother by his wrists. Dean was heavy. Surely not as heavy as Sam was, but heavy enough that Sam knew that he would have a hard time carrying him out at this rate. He was already losing focus, his eyes burning and his vision swimming, the world was already spinning out of control and he knew that they had to get out as quickly as possible now. As Sam started to pull Dean towards the kitchen door, he realized that he couldn’t go back this way. The flames had reached the living room and would soon devour the hallway.

In a split second decision, he let go of his brother and instead grabbed the chair from before to throw it at the kitchen window, shattering it in the process and sending the chair flying outside. Again, he grabbed his brother and pulled him up as best he could with Dean not cooperating in the slightest. His big brother was like a sack of sweet potatoes hanging from his shoulder as Sam slowly inched closer to the window and yet Sam had never felt stronger than in this moment and Dean’s weighed never less like a burden. »Adam!« He yelled through his coughs, shoving his big brother through the broken window inch by inch. His little brother was at the window in an instant as he realized what was going on. It was then that Sam heard the sirens of the fire truck arriving at the street. Adam pulled Dean out of the window with every bit of strength the teenager had. They didn’t care that Dean's clothes got ripped in the process by the shards of glass still sticking out of the frame or how unceremoniously Adam dropped Dean when he was out.

Sam never had such a hard time climbing through a window before. His head was swimming and he felt as if he would collapse any second now too. Only with Adam’s help, he managed to get out through the window, falling to his hands and knees as soon as he was out, coughing his lungs out. His hands were bloodied and he had cut open his left leg in the process of climbing out the window, but he didn’t care.

Adam had already pulled Dean a bit further away from the house as Sam was still gathering himself before he slowly crawled his way over to wear his big brother was lying in the grass that he had just mowed last Sunday with Jack on his shoulders, laughing with glee.

He couldn’t even get back on his feet and he didn’t care either. He didn’t even care about the looks the three brothers got as the firefighters started working their mojo on their already doomed house. Sam was only glad that Baby was not parked in the driveway, otherwise, the car would have probably suffered too. »Dean!« He turned to his older brother as he checked for his pulse. It was there, but it was weak and he didn’t like to think about the possibility of his brother dying like this after everything they had gone through that last year. Adam, however, was even more frantic as he slapped Dean's check and tried to shake their older brother awake.

»Dean, come on!« Adam urged as the paramedics arrived at the scene and quickly jumped into action. Sam could only slump back in the grass, still coughing violently, but eager to wake up his brother all the same. Just as Adam slapped Dean once more, there was a moan tearing from their brother's throat.

»Stop it…« Dean managed to get out before finally being able to open his eyes and stare dazed at the faces hovering above him. Adam was throwing himself at their brother in an instant, crushing Dean with his weight as he pulled him close to his chest, sobbing violently into his shoulder, causing Dean only to scoff. »No chick-flick moments … I'm fine. I'm fine…« Of course, it was a blatant lie and there was no question about it, but Sam nonetheless pulled Adam back just slightly with a huff and a cough.

»Give him room to breathe.« He rasped out but was only pulled down by Adam himself in the process as his baby brother flung his arms around him instead for just a moment, pulling him close as the paramedics rushed over to them to check on Dean and him. Sam, however, brushed them off as one of them tried to check on him. »I'm good.« He wheezed under another fit of coughs ripping from his throat. »Check on him, he was in there longer.«

Everything seemed to be pure chaos around them. People were taking photos of their burning house, the firefighters tried their best to put out the raging inferno that had by now reached the kitchen and swallowed the house whole and the paramedics were checking on Dean who didn’t want any of it, but was ultimately put on a stretcher to get him to the ambulance. Sam followed with a limb thanks to his injuries, supported by Adam as he rested his weight on his little brother. Of course, the paramedics demanded him to go to the hospital too, just to make sure he didn’t get smoke poisoning.

Just as they reached the ambulance, another car pulled into the street and before either of them could do anything, Castiel's voice ripped through the crowd as he came running towards the ambulance, his children in the backseat of his car on the other side of the street. »Dean!« The black-haired man called as he made his way through the crowd in panic before he reached the ambulance and Dean to its side on the stretcher.

»What happened?« That was the question. What happened? Even a few days later, they didn’t have an answer. The police and the fire department had investigated their house while Dean and Sam had remained at the hospital and Adam went back to his mom once more. There were signs of arson on the first floor of their house and yet no one wanted to have seen a thing that day. It was clear that, whoever had done it, was being protected by their neighbors. They had wanted them gone and now, everything they had was destroyed for good.

Almost a full week later, Sam found himself in front of the house again with his brothers. The fire had burned it down to the foundation walls. There was nothing left and nothing to rescue from their house. He hadn’t wanted to come here again, but his brother demanded to see for himself. Blissfully, he hadn’t seen much of the fire and could remember even less of the day on which they lost everything, but Sam knew that his big brother wouldn’t be able to stand seeing their house like this. He had never been more thankful for Castiel's presence as he came with them, his children neatly tucked away with Bobby on the nearby playground. This was no place for them.

As they stood on the lawn, Dean looked utterly defeated. He had never seen his brother like this before, not even after the death of their father because there had been so much other crap going on. Now, however, everything started to really sink in for Dean. The death of their father, his time in prison as an innocent man, losing their house and his dream job, losing absolutely every little thing they had. Dean was the only one who walked forward to what was left of their house and carefully made his way over the rubble of the entrance and into the ruin, Castiel always right at his heels while Sam and Adam just stopped shortly in front of the house. Sam couldn’t bring himself to go inside. He felt oddly empty just standing here and staring at their home while he watched Dean looking around the ruin, tracing what was left of the walls with his fingers until they were covered in soot.

It should have come as no surprise as Dean finally broke down and crumbled in on himself, supported only by Castiel, yet to Sam – and probably to Adam too – it came as a shock to see their older brother cling to Castiel as if his life would depend on it with his knees wobbling and his breath hitching. There was no way of seeing if he was crying as Dean had pressed his face into Castiel's shoulder, but the way his shoulders vibrated made it painfully clear to his younger brothers that he did.

Despite everything that had happened during the last year, they still had had their home, still had a place to come back to, memories attached to every inch of the house in the small scratches on the furniture or walls or the piece of wall where their father had marked each of their growths throughout the years. All of it was gone now. Destroyed. And in what the prison or their father's death hadn’t succeeded, this had done the trick at last. Dean was utterly defeated as he later came back out. He didn’t turn around again, his eyes still puffy and bloodshot from crying. He just held onto Castiel's hand for dear life, walked to the Impala and got into his beloved car with not a single glance back to his home.

※※※※※※※

This night they slept at Bobby's house. All of them. Bobby and his wife Karen lived a little out of town where it was quiet and beautiful with a thick, lush forest all around the perimeter. Dean still didn’t know why he had decided to rather come here than go to Kate or Castiel's place. Bobby's house felt like home, he guessed, or it came as close as it got, anyway.

Even Castiel had joined the brothers. Karen had cooked for them and tried her best to distract the children, making sure her boys were alright though they couldn’t be farther from being alright, Dean assumed. He had never felt this lost. Not even after his father's death. Not even after being sent to prison for a crime he hadn’t even committed. Not even after being raped and almost beaten to death. Not even after seeing Adam captured by a monster. This, somehow, was different. He had nothing to go back to and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have the answers his younger brothers were looking for as they were watching every step he made since the fire. It was clear that their family would be ripped apart again. Adam would live with his mother, Sam would go back to the campus, and Dean? He didn’t know where he would go.

The night hung low over the house as he heard the screen door open and close softly behind him and he didn’t need to look over his shoulder to realize who it was even before the other person sat down beside him on the porch and handed him a beer. He took it without looking up. »You look like crap, Chipmunk.« Bobby's voice was ever so soft despite the gravel he had apparently once swallowed.

»I feel like crap.« Dean repeated slowly. He was still a bit hoarse, his throat still hurt. A minor case of smoke poisoning and yet bad enough to take him out for a week, aside from the cuts he got as Sammy had rescued him.

Bobby didn’t say something like 'I can imagine' because they both know he couldn’t. The loss and the pain he was feeling could only be understood when lived through. They sat there for a while in silence, just them staring into the night, both lost deep in their thoughts before Bobby finally put his arm around Dean's shoulders and allowed the younger man to rest his head against his shoulder. Bobby's warmth and smell were familiar and comforting. For just this second, he felt like a small child again, being carried around by Bobby through the house because he hadn’t been able to find sleep after his mother's death. Bobby had always been there, but they both knew he wouldn’t always be there. Before all of this had happened, he had thought Bobby and their father had been invincible, but now, after the fire, he grew more and more aware that he would lose everyone he loved, sooner or later.

»Castiel is a good man.« Bobby suddenly piped up after a sip of his beer and made Dean sit up straight again. Well, this came clearly out of nowhere. »I can see why you trust him, Boy. I can see why you want to be with him.«

»I don’t-«

»Dean, it's not fair to me, Castiel or anyone else if you keep denying it. And I don’t get why you do either.« Bobby's words prompted him to sigh deeply before he brushed a hand through his hair.

»I'm afraid, I guess.«

»Afraid of what?«

»Everything.« He huffed. »In prison, it had been easy, you know? Just the two of us against the rest of the world but now that we are in the real world again with all those people who wish to bring us harm … I'm afraid. He wants to build a house, Bobby. He wants to settle down. He wants me to join him and settle down with him. I'm afraid.«

Bobby gently patted his shoulder at that. »Afraid of what other people might think or afraid to lose this all again?«

»Both, maybe.« He confessed. »I was never afraid of what other people thought of me, I couldn’t care less. But this is different. When I got out … When I got back home … I thought it would all be as it was – nothing is. Hell, maybe a part of me is even glad that the house is gone, I don’t know at this point. But … seeing those people I have grown up with, those people that I helped and supported all my life … Seeing them look at me like I was the devil … I don’t know. It took something from me, I guess and I don’t know if I'll ever be able to get that back.« He dragged his hand over his face before gulping down on his beer again. »And then I think about what Dad might have said to all of this and I just can't decide whether he would have approved or not.«

Not that this would have held him back behind bars. Then again, prison was a whole other world with different rules.

»I have known John for most of my life, Dean.« Bobby sighed. »Yes, he would have been shocked, that’s true, but he would have loved you nonetheless. And he would have loved Castiel too, eventually, because even a stubborn son of a bitch like John Winchester would have seen how much good this man does for you.«

»But what should I do, Bobby?«

Bobby huffed a laugh and Dean remembered the last time they had sat like this, side by side. Dean had run away from home after a huge fight with his father. He had taken the car, Baby, and hit a lamppost after their fight. He had been too afraid to go back home, so instead, he came to Bobby, asking him that very same question.

»You take the risk.« He smirked. »Being afraid is nothing bad, Dean, it just shows you what's important. Go, build this house with Castiel. Do it with your own hands and make it your home – not your father's home. And then you are going to start working with me. I could really use some skilled hands at my workshop.«

 

**-End of Chapter 26-**


	28. Chapter 28

**Lawrence, Kansas**

There was more paint on the wall than on their clothes or bodies. In Castiel's eyes, this was a win. Maybe not the biggest win in his life, but certainly in the top five. »When are the kids coming home?« Dean hummed as he nuzzled his jaw lovingly, tracing the bone and stubbles with his lips and teeth softly.

»In one hour.« Castiel replied with a sly grin on his face. Would anyone ask him how it came to this situation while Dean and him had only painted the bedroom, he would deny testimony as to not look like a man without self-control. It had started with a little teasing kiss from Dean in passing, continued with Dean painting a dick on the wall of their bedroom that had prompted Castiel to quickly paint over it only for Dean to paint more obscenities on their bedroom wall. Their schedule was tight. Jack and Claire were at the kindergarten and Sam had promised to pick them up afterward to bring them back home. In an hour, their house would be flooded with Winchesters all eager to help them around the house.

It wasn’t quite finished, but already ready to live in and Castiel couldn’t be any prouder when he was walking through the building. It had taken them a little over half a year to build this place a little outside of town but still close enough to reach everything within a few minutes. They had done almost everything themselves except for the few parts they needed expert help with. Though Dean and he were both skilled with their hands, they were certainly no plumbers or electricians.

»So plenty of time, huh?« Dean grinned before catching Castiel's lips and pulling him closer again until Castiel came to a rest on Dean's lap, his right hand pressed firmly on Dean's left shoulder where he had already left a mark with red paint in form of his hand earlier.

»For what?« He teased, though being so close to Dean, their naked bodies brushing against each other on the mattress that was lying on the ground as a sorry excuse for the bed that Castiel was about to build, made it impossible to act as if he wouldn’t know what Dean meant.

»Round two?«

Dean's fingers were gentle when they brushed over the wings engraved in Castiel's back and shoulders, his short nails barely scraping over the skin. With a groan, Castiel pushed Dean down on the mattress again, hovering over him. »We are never going to finish our work when we keep doing this.«

Dean Winchester clearly was a bad influence and that couldn’t be clearer even without the sheepish grin on his face. He was merciless and would enjoy the questions of their family when they would arrive and ask why they still weren't finished with the bedroom while Castiel would struggle to come up with an answer.

»Don’t worry, we'll manage to cover our tracks before the others raid this place.« Of course, that was a lie and they both knew it. Still, Castiel was powerless against Dean's lopsided smirk, the full teeth grin or his cackling laughter, reminding him that his darkest time was behind him, that he was finally free.

Most of their trysts were rushed and hard and quick because of the children being around constantly in the house or the many other things they needed to focus on in their lives, but now, in this instant, Castiel meant to take his time, no matter that they didn’t have any.

Leaning down he kissed his way down the path of sensitive skin of Dean's throat, grazing the perfect curve of his collarbone with his teeth. »You are awful.« Castiel hummed. He loved the low growl Dean produced and how his back was arching ever so slightly as Castiel's mouth continued down-down-down his body, his tongue, and lips, and teeth devouring every valley and every rising of the muscles of his abdomen and his perfect chest. His lips grazed over scars, some fresher, some older but he tended to every little one of them, searching for new bruises on Dean's lanky body and found none, only shadows of the past nightmare.

Lower and lower his mouth went and he enjoyed feeling and hearing Dean holding his breath in anticipation of Castiel's tongue moving to where he really wanted it – only so he could jerk in surprise and mutter a sweet little curse as a teasing nip was delivered to his inner thigh. Castiel could not help it. He loved having Dean Winchester, who was always so cocky, at his mercy like this. His right hand already forcefully gripped Dean's right thigh to lift the beautifully shaped leg above his own naked shoulder and when he moved closer to the body so openly welcoming him he could feel how Dean's heel dug into his shoulder blade to draw him closer-closer-closer to lure him into pleasure, instead Castiel bit down into the tender flesh of his inner thigh once more.

»Castiel-« He tried to protest, but the deep moan escaping his full lips stopped him instantly, engulfed in the feeling of the open-mouthed, sloppy kisses, which Castiel used to cover the pale, yet sun-kissed skin of the man beneath him. »Please-« Dean tried once more only to gasp loudly, his head falling back into the mattress as his lover's mouth finally engulfed his aching arousal, silken heat, and licentious pleasure. He could feel Dean fight to hold still, to control his revolting body, but he could also feel how his efforts became an increasingly difficult struggle against his own inner demons as Castiel slyly applied his tongue along the ridge of his cock, following it with the slightest, the gentlest, the most careful scraping of teeth over silk.

It became quite obvious that Dean couldn’t resist bucking into his mouth, one hand – his left hand – reaching down to tangle his long fingers in Castiel's already messy dark hair and pull it roughly, causing Castiel to growl deep in his throat, but neither loosened Dean his grip, nor did he let him go, but when Castiel glanced up a little he devoured the sight of him biting his bottom lip only to contain his moans as he finally gave up and decided to let the sensations consume him. Suddenly it didn’t matter whether or not they would finish their work in time. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of heat shooting right down into his groin as he could almost sense the pressure building rapidly inside Dean, winding tighter and tighter and tighter, his fingers clutching Castiel's hair harder in a silent warning of what was soon to come.

Castiel understood and Dean did not need to spell it out for him, but he continued the wicked machinations of his mouth anyway, until he heard that lovely breathless cry, he came to yearn for so much in the silent and sometimes lone hours inside his office at the pediatricians practice he worked for, when Dean finally came, his spine suddenly curving upwards in his release.

Castiel sat up, licking his lips absently to not waste a single drop of what Dean had offered him after he swallowed thickly. He was still painfully aroused himself when he crawled back up to kiss the man lying exhausted underneath him, but the moment his sneaky fingers tried to steal back his boxer shorts from underneath his lover's perfectly shaped ass and distract him with his full mouthed kiss, Dean groaned and pushed him back almost violently.

Despite knowing that Dean was strong and skilled in martial arts, he sometimes was still surprised by the strength the other man possessed. Castiel had no chance to get up fast enough after he landed on his back and almost hit his head on a paint can that was standing next to their makeshift bed until Dean was on top of him. »Let me take care of you.« Dean commanded again with this smug yet playful little grin of his plastered on his face, even though he still was a bit breathless from his recent orgasm – not that it would be the first today.

Castiel could not help but grin and bite his bottom lip when he crossed his right arm behind his head, feeling the hot groin of the younger male brushing over his own stone hard cock when Dean reached out to the side for the oil that was still standing there on the ground from previous activities. His moan was husky with suppressed desire, when he watched Dean preparing himself with the oil they kept next to their makeshift bed (hidden most times, so nosy children wouldn’t find it), his own slick fingers disappearing intriguingly again and again until he was satisfied. He didn’t do it because he really needed to prepare himself, after all, they had had sex not even half an hour ago, he only did it to drive Castiel mad, to make him moan and writhe in pleasure without even touching him. Oh, that little bastard knew exactly what he was doing and that Castiel was watching his skilled fingers preparing himself, working him open for his cock. Dean had always liked to tease him, even back in prison. Yet Castiel was unable to look away, even more so when Dean finally sank down onto Castiel's impatiently waiting cock with a satisfied grunt, his eyes fluttering shut.

Castiel rocked his own hips to meet him, his hands settling on Dean's waist to steady him as he took his cock deeper and deeper inside his tightly strung body. It was quite hard not to use too much pressure with his rough and calloused hands, so he wouldn’t bruise Dean again, but it was almost impossible to concentrate on this little detail, especially when Dean then decided he was comfortable enough and started to ride him, panting as he enjoyed the sweet pain and the little burn of Castiel's thick cock plunging into him, ripping him open and filling him to his desire.

Their hips rolled together, synchronized in mutual pleasure. Dean's short nails dug into the flesh of Castiel's flat stomach, into his muscles while he steadied himself to fasten his pace, moaning as if the last time he had had sex laid back ages. It wasn’t long until Castiel couldn’t stand it anymore, the sensation of Dean's body welcoming his, the sight of Dean's naked body on top of him, his skin glistening with little drops of sweat – close enough that Castiel could easily count each and every little one of them – the sound of those deep immoral moans coming from the deep of Dean's throat. He scrambled to sit up and cross his legs underneath Dean with a little adjusting of their bodies here and there, prompting Dean into a lazier pace now as the younger man sat comfortable on his lap, his long legs closed around Castiel's hips, unbearable close and yet never close enough. He could feel Dean's hardened cock pressing into his stomach as he grabbed him tighter, closing his arms around him in a tight embrace. Dean's hot breath in his ear started to drive him insane before he forcefully grabbed his jaw with one hand to pull his lover into a deep kiss, all tongue and teeth, sloppy and with no finesse at all, while his paint-stained hand came to a rest on Dean's shoulder again. When he finally lost it and came deeply engulfed inside his lover, only for Dean to follow him suit over the edge of the cliff without even the need of being touched by him at all, Dean continued to ride him through his orgasm, as he was being filled with Castiel's release, some of it lazily dripping down those beautiful thighs.

»Look what you've done.« Castiel huffed when Dean slumped forward, nuzzling his nose against his sweaty, hot, moist neck, but Dean didn’t even bother turning his head the way Castiel pointed lazily with his right hand. There was paint all over the bedsheets and their bodies, giving away quite clearly what they had done instead of painting their bedroom walls. The next moment, Castiel could hear a car arriving in their driveway through the open bedroom window that allowed the soft summer breeze to blow inside and cool down their sweaty bodies. Moments later, he heard the voices of children and car doors slamming shut. Of course, today of all days, Sam and the kids arrived early.

»Totally worth it.« Dean just chuckled.

※※※※※※※

Looking back at his life, Sam Winchester decided, that he was still amazed by how everything had turned out. A little over a year ago, his life had been in shambles. He had barely survived a heroin overdose thanks to his older brother not accepting when Sam ignored him and his calls, his father had died all too suddenly from a heart attack that had been probably caused by the shock of hearing about his young son's condition, his drug dealer had been killed by his baby brother and his older brother had went to jail for the crime.

When he had a moment of quietude and reverie to look back at his life and recount the events of this past year, it sounded like he would be giving the synopsis of a badly written fanfiction or light novel. But this was his life and he still couldn’t fathom that despite all of this shit, he – they – had managed to come out of all of this stronger and better.

When August came this year, he was still crushed by the weight of his past mistakes and he still would go to his father's gravesite on the day of his death to apologize and lay down flowers. He knew that there was nothing he could do to ever make up for his mistakes that had led to all of this crazy shit going down in the first place, but at least he had promised himself, his brothers, and his father that he would try. He had decided against leaving college. Instead, he had resumed studying law. It hadn’t been easy with all the scrutiny shot at him or with seeing Jessica with his former best friend around campus all the time. Yet, he had done it. He had decided to get his shit back together and work hard as his brother had done all his life because this was the least he could do. Even over a year after all of this had happened, he still visited Valley Hope sometimes and he talked with Sonny over the telephone or email. He knew that being clean didn’t mean just taking no drugs for a while. It was a constant battle with his own mind and no one understood this better than Sonny.

Sometimes he wondered if he should talk to Dean about it, maybe even Castiel, who had become such a good friend to Sam in all of this, but then he would always shake off these thoughts. He wasn’t quite so afraid that he would relapse again as he had been only months ago, but there were still certain moments in his life now, when he would fall into this dark hole of regret and guilt, that he would need to pick up the phone and talk to Sonny – sometimes even to Bobby.

As Sam threw the keys to his apartment into the ugly ass bowl on the small table beside the door, his eyes caught, for a second, on the framed photo next to the bowl. Well, he had another person to talk to now, he guessed. Eileen Leahy had joined his university two months ago and their connection had almost been instant. Adam had taken the picture of them that was now the first thing he saw when entering his apartment and the last thing he would see before leaving. She was different from Jessica in every way possible and that made it easier to move on, somehow. Eileen was a girl who would kick his ass, would he even begin to show any signs of weakness towards his addiction. She was a ray of hope in his darkest days.

But, speaking of Adam, he found his little brother sitting on the couch in the living room. Without the job Sam had taken on beside his studies, he wouldn’t be able to afford this flat, but since Adam had joined him a few months ago, Kate had started to support them too, paying half the rent. Next month he would turn eighteen and Dean was already planning the biggest birthday party in history to make up for not having celebrated Adam’s sixteenth birthday. Kate, however, didn’t want Adam to work while in school. He should focus on his graduation and Sam couldn’t agree more.

»Sammy!« Adam suddenly called from the sofa and hastily waved at him to come over. He held his tablet in his hand – a birthday gift from Dean and Castiel last year which he cherished to no end. Sam wouldn’t lie, it had been rough after the fire. They had never had much money in the first place, but with their house and everything in it destroyed … It had been awful. Sure, Castiel had been eager to help them out, being a rich mobster and all of this, but the ever so proud and stubborn Winchester brothers had refused him again and again. And it felt good that they had. Everything Adam and Sam now owned, they had worked for. It was a good feeling to come to his apartment and see his run down furniture and to know that he had managed to drag his ass out of hell all by himself while simultaneously dragging this ratty yellow couch down the street and into his apartment.

»What is it?« Sam smirked as he slowly shuffled to the couch. »Not another funny cat video, I hope?«

»Oh, come on, you love those!« Adam huffed as Sam flopped down next to him. He could only see the chat window that was open on the tablet. Dean had sent his brother a message as it seemed. »Dean wants to video call us.« Adam informed and quickly typed into the chat window that Sam had now arrived and was ready.

Seconds later, the video chat was popping open, allowing the younger Winchesters a glance at their big brother standing somewhere in the garden of his new house with a tree in the background. They could see Jack and Claire just a little out of frame, playing tag – at least it looked like it. The sun was shining brightly down on Dean but at least he was quickly taking off his stupid sunglasses as the call began. »Hey, Sam!« Dean greeted with a grin. »Hey, Adam!« Because Adam would bitch about being ignored would he not greet his baby brother too.

However, before Dean could say much else, Castiel came into frame somewhere from the sidelines and as always he looked as messy as it got, his hair ruffled and something that looked like motor oil smudged on his left cheek. »Hi guys!« Castiel shot them his ridiculous full-teeth grin that made the beginnings of his developing crow's feet all too prominent. »Future brothers in law!«

Leave it to Castiel to push the world into pure chaos with one sentence. Before Sam could even quite register the words, Adam was already screaming at his tablet in excitement. »Why is he screaming?« Came Castiel's ruff voice from the device.

»Because I haven’t told them yet, Idiot.« Dean shot back with a laugh before turning back to the camera with this lopsided grin of his. »I asked Cas to marry me, guys.« Their brother finally broke the news that his fiancé already spoiled with that same amused smirk.

»I said yes!« Castiel laughed after he had already dove out of frame again in embarrassment of his slip-up. While Sam still didn’t know what to say, Adam was already spouting all kinds of congratulations at Dean and Castiel, although Cas had already vanished into thin air, probably going back to his work – whatever he was doing now. In this regard, Cas was much like their brother, always finding a new project around their house.

»You're so quiet, Sammy.« Dean finally acknowledged his younger brother’s silence with a slight frown on his face that promoted Sam into action.

»It was about time.« Sam found himself smirking just as he could witness how Jack had decided it was a good idea to climb the old apple tree in the background. Dean was about to say something, as his eye probably caught on his own video that was playing smaller in the corner of his screen, before he shot around.

»Jack!« He suddenly exclaimed. »Get down there! I told you not to climb on that tree, it's dangerous!« As if he had already forgotten about their conversation, Adam and Sam could only watch how Dean was lowering his phone to hurry over to the twins – presumably because all they got to see was the side of his leg now. »Claire, come on! You're supposed to be the smart one and watch out for your brother!«

The call ended abruptly right then and there, leaving the two younger Winchesters in awe of what they had just witnessed.

※※※※※※※

Dean Winchester was sometimes still amazed by how everything had turned out for him. The last year and a half had been a nightmare. His father's death was still always in the back of his mind and he still wondered if his father would approve of how he was living his life these days, if he would be proud of him maybe even. Knowing his father, he probably would be proud, but it still was hard to convince himself of it at times.

He, however, was proud of himself and his family, of his brothers and the family he had found in Castiel and his children. Who would have thought that being sent to jail for a crime he hadn’t even committed and going through hell behind bars, would lead to something as beautiful as his? Who would have thought that after all the hardships, he would find himself standing in the living room of a house he had built with his own two hands and the support of his family and friends, watching his two beautiful children sleeping quietly on the couch in the afternoon hours of the day after falling asleep watching a cartoon?

Sometimes he would look at all of this and still be afraid that he would wake up and realize that it had all just been a dream and that he was still living a nightmare instead. Sometimes he had to remind himself that all of this was real and he knew that Castiel felt the same way. He could see it in the way his fiancé would sometimes look at him or his children, or how he would sit in the garden, feeling the blades of grass between his toes, lost in thought as he tried to realize that he was free and maybe even allowed to be happy with no one left to hold him back, with no one left to make him do things he didn’t want to do. He was working as a pediatrician now and nothing could have been more fitting for him. He was awesome with kids and suffered more than all of his little patients when he needed to give them a shot or draw blood.

Seeing Castiel these days, it was almost impossible to understand that this Castiel, this loving father and caring man, was the same man who had been feared behind bars. He knew, however, that Castiel was still worried sometimes. Worried, that someday their happiness would be destroyed again by his family. Gabriel was still out there somewhere and no one knew where. Same with Gadreel. Only a few months after their house had been finished, they had received a postcard. There had been nothing on it, except for the picture of a beach somewhere in the world. No message, only one letter on the back of the card. G. That was it. And to this day they both didn’t know if this message was of Gadreel or Gabriel and perhaps it didn't even matter. Whoever had written to them, was no longer a danger to their lives and was well. Dean would sometimes find Castiel staring at the postcard that he had pinned with a magnet to their fridge door alongside the drawing of their children.

To Dean, it was still a miracle how good those children had reacted to him and Castiel being a couple. Then again, the way Claire had reacted to it had told them clearly that she had already known. Jack and Claire had accepted Dean into their family just like this. Without hesitation, without second thoughts, without prejudice, without holding a grudge, without thinking that this would hurt their mother’s memory. Then again, Dean and Cas always did their best to make sure that those children held their mother in loving memory. They would visit her grave as much as possible and Castiel would tell the story of how they met, or he would compare his kids to their mother. Amelia Novak was always a presence in their house, but certainly not in a bad way. There were photos of her everywhere, even the wedding photo of her and Castiel. Sure, he hadn’t liked it at first, but the children loved the photo and Dean had been quick to understand that this was not about what he wanted or liked, but about what was best for the twins.

And then he had remembered his father's words from when he had been younger and talking about fatherhood with his dad. He had always wanted kids and he had asked his dad often what being a father was like, although one might argue that Dean had already been one to his brothers at this point. His dad had just smiled and told him that, as a father, it's all about what's best for your children, never about your own needs and feelings. You do what's best for them and you can deal with your own hurt pride or feelings later. It was true. And just like the twins had adopted him as their dad, he had adopted them as his kids without question, teasing Castiel sometimes when they were out with the kids and people telling them how much the twins looked like Dean.

It was just then, after he had pulled a blanket over Jack and Claire and wanted to walk to the kitchen to prepare dinner, that his eyes got caught on another photo on one of the side tables. Hell, he had never been more thankful for Sammy's control issues. After everything they had had was lost in the fire, thanks to Sam, they still had their family photos. So, next to photos of his dad and brothers, was a photo that always made every guest who came over laugh a little.

Last summer, Sammy had caught Dean and Castiel in the garden with the twins. Claire and Dean had just clambered out of the pool while Jackie had refused to get in the water. The photo showed Dean and Castiel with the twins and while Dean was holding Claire on his arms with her laughing her little ass off and him grinning stupidly, Castiel had been threatening Jack to drop him head first in the pool, holding him only by his ankles over the water.

Behind him, the front door was opened and shut seconds later, prompting Dean to glance over his shoulder towards Cas who just put his jacket to the side and slipped out of his shoes. »What are you doing?« Cas smiled at him as he walked over to Dean, stealing a little kiss from his lips before glancing down at the photo too.

»You know what's the best thing about our relationship?« Dean finally turned towards Cas who furrowed his brows in confusion over this sudden question.

»That we love each other unconditionally? That we care for each other? That we are a great team against the evil beings that are living in this house?« He smirked nodding over to the living room door where he had apparently spotted the sleeping children.

Dean, however, shook his head with a grin. »We can tell everyone that we met in jail and it is not even a joke.«

 

**-End of Epilog-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pictures that inspired this chapter:  
> https://www.pinterest.de/pin/497999671289860901/
> 
> https://www.pinterest.de/pin/799037158859491113/


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